


It’s over now. You’re home.

by peldarjoi



Category: Star Trek: Deep Space Nine
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, Gen, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Implied/Referenced Underage Sex
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-01-03
Updated: 2018-01-06
Packaged: 2018-09-07 13:15:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 20
Words: 28,321
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8802259
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/peldarjoi/pseuds/peldarjoi
Summary: A former member of the Shakaar Resistance cell shows up years after the Cardassian Withdrawal knowing nothing about it, but where has she been?Newest chapter, #20: "Feelee’s eyes popped open to a stark, colorless room..."





	1. She’d long ago given over to despair.

**Author's Note:**

> Starts sometime during the early part of the 4th season, before the episode Crossfire.

Feelee sat alone in the dank space that was her prison cell. She wasn’t sure how long she’d been there, the movements of the guards were irregular and there were no windows to be able to track the sun. It had been a long time, though. She was certain that they were far underground, otherwise the heat from Cardassia Prime’s surface would have made its way to them. But it was cold and dark here.

This was not a modern facility by any stretch of the imagination. The walls were stone, the doors were made of thick wood with barred windows in them and they were latched with old, metal tumbler locks. There were other cells with other prisoners. Seven cells arranged in a near circle, originally with one prisoner each, though the man in the cell to her right had been beaten to death some time ago. She knew the others were there even though she couldn’t see them and no one dared make a sound.

She’d thought many times about picking the lock, if only she had something to use as a tool. It wouldn’t have done any good anyway, there was no way out of this deep pit of a prison. The other prisoners were as quiet as Feelee, any attempt at communication was met with severe punishment, so they’d long ago stopped trying. How long ago, she didn’t know. She’d been fourteen when they brought her here. Years had past, she was sure of that, but there was no way to know how many. Only an endless round of beatings, torture and rape.

She’d long ago given over to despair. With no hope of escape or rescue, even the relief of death had been denied them. At some point in her memory she knew there had been people who cared for her, people who, if they were still alive, missed her. _If they’re still alive._ She thought it was likely the man who’d betrayed her and turned her over to the Cardassians may have also given them information about the rest of her resistance cell before she'd killed him.

Feelee didn’t bother to react to the sound of the guards entering the cell block. If they were coming for her, she’d know it soon enough. Instead they unlocked the door to the first cell, the farthest to the left of hers. She hugged her knees close to her chest and placed her forehead on them. Some shred of compassion that still remained inside of her twisted her stomach into a knot. She expected to hear the sounds of a beating, or the man being dragged to the interrogation room. Instead they forced him to his knees and a moment later she heard a short phaser blast followed by the dull sound of a body hitting the floor.

The guards opened the second cell, the man there protested more than the first, but his body soon fell to the floor too. By now Feelee’s heart pounded, helpless to do anything for them. When they opened the third cell, the one next to hers, the woman inside was ready for them. She tried to fight back, but she didn’t stand any chance against two armed Cardassians. She was dead in a matter of seconds.

Feelee remained seated on the floor as the guards opened her cell. At least death would bring an end to the endless torment her life had become. One of the guards, the one who was especially fond of her, grabbed her arm and lifted her to her feet and showed her a sick, perverted smile. He said to his companion, “Go on, take care of the next one, I want to have her one last time.” As the other guard left the cell, this one shoved her against the wall, pressing his phaser hard against her jaw with one hand and found the opening in her clothes with the other hand. She closed her eyes to shut out reality.

Sounds of a struggle from another cell pulled his attention away briefly. In that tiny moment, something inside of her that she’d long thought was dead surged up within her. She desperately grasped at the resolve she felt.

Before he could react, her hand was on the phaser, pointing it away from her and she drove the heel of her other hand up into his nose. Bone and cartilage crushed under the blow, but he didn’t lose his grip on the phaser. Instead he struck the back of his forearm against her ribcage. Pain flooded her chest. Ignoring it, she turned and slammed her elbow hard against one of his ocular ridges. He cried out and smashed his phaser into the side of her face. The blow made her stumble sideways and she felt momentarily blind and deaf on that side, but she still held onto the phaser. She continued her sideways movement and followed through by twisting her body around, wrenching the phaser from him. She flipped it around in her hand, aimed and squeezed the trigger. Her first shot hit him in his armored chest and only dazed him slightly. She aimed the second shot directly in his face. As his body hit the floor she kept firing and didn’t stop until only an unrecognizable, burned mass remained.

Feelee gasped for breath, wishing she could somehow do more to him, kill him again and again for everything he’d done to her, but sounds of a struggle in the other cell reached her. She rushed out and to the other cell, wincing at the pain in her chest. She pointed the phaser at the Cardassian struggling with the Bajoran man. She could easily take him out, she was a good shot, but if they moved at the last moment, she could hit the man she was trying to help. The tip of the phaser followed the two as they fought. Finally, she decided on a distraction. “Hey!” She shouted. The Cardassian turned toward her, startled, but the Bajoran immediately dropped to the floor, giving her a clean shot. This time she only had to fire once.

“Thank you.” The Bajoran man said to her.

“Thank _you_.” She corrected. He’d given her one last opportunity to fight back, she owed him everything from that moment on. One more prisoner remained locked in his cell, Feelee grabbed the key off of the dead guard’s belt then hurried back out to the last cell. They had heard the man in that cell beaten badly not long ago. Unsure if she would find a beaten man or a dead body, she quickly unlocked the door and rushed inside. What she saw made her want to scream, or cry, or go back and kill those Cardassians more. He was alive. Kneeling in the middle of the cell. His face was swollen and bruised to the point where he barely looked Bajoran. Blood ran down his face and neck and stained his clothes. His breathing was ragged as though he had internal injuries as well.

Sympathy welling up inside her, she quickly knelt at his side. She cupped her hand under his chin and turned his face toward hers. His eyes connected with hers and she desperately wanted to reassure him. “We’re going to get you out of here.” She wasn’t sure he would survive if they moved him, but they couldn’t leave him here.

The other man stepped into the cell. He had a phaser in one hand and three Bajoran earrings in the other. He held them up to her, “We need to tell their families what happened.”

“Agreed.” She carefully stretched the beaten man’s arm around her shoulder, to the other man she said, “Help me?” He immediately bent to help lift the man up and they crept out of the cellblock, phasers ready.


	2. I died a free man.

They’d made it up one level by the time the beaten man’s body began to convulse. They pulled him out of sight and laid him on the floor. So far they hadn’t seen any more Cardassians, but the other man stood ready and kept watch. Feelee bent over him, turning his face toward hers. He knew he was dying and there was nothing she could say to comfort him.

“My name is Ocus Payo.” He said, his voice shaking. “I need you to find my sister,” he pulled his earring off and pressed it into her hand, “tell her that I died a free man.”

“I will.” She promised as the life drained from his eyes. She’d never spoken to the man, had never heard his name until that moment, but she cared deeply for him. This horrible experience they’d shared had given them all a connection deeper than she’d felt with anyone else. Tears filled her eyes and her heart hurt, but they had no time to mourn, he might have felt he died a free man, but she and the other escapee certainly were not. She made sure his eyes were closed and stood up next to the other man.

He turned to her, she could see now that he was quite a bit older than her, maybe close to Shakaar’s age. Certainly a resistance fighter, all of them had been. “Jehil Anon, by the way.”  
“Feelee.” She said softly, her assumed name an amalgam of her true name, Feena Leeny.

“Are you… all right?” He asked her awkwardly.

He knew what had been happening to her, he’d heard all of it without being able to do anything to help her. She turned her face away and nodded silently.

“We need to get to a console and learn the layout of this place.” He said, moving cautiously through the room.


	3. Go! Now!

Without being hindered by Ocus, Feelee and Jehil made quick progress up through the levels. With what they could learn from the computer, they found that they were indeed underground, fifteen levels down, in fact. They’d also managed to find the current date. She’d been in this hole for four years, and he’d been there for five. How could that be possible?

As they moved higher and higher they found that most of the facility was empty. Jehil suggested that the Cardassians might be in the process of closing it out. Considering the sudden execution of the prisoners and the lack of personnel, she tended to agree.

From the schematics they’d found, they decided to head to the highest underground level where a number of small long-range ships were kept, hoping that at least one of those ships would still be there. If not, they’d be better off taking their chances on the street than in here.

On the level directly under the hangar they found a storage bay, and unfortunately, also several Cardassian soldiers. With phaser fire lancing through the air over their heads, Feelee and Jehil ducked behind containers, then leaned out to return fire.

They exchanged fire with the Cardassians for several minutes before it began to dawn on Feelee that something wasn’t right. The Cardassians could have easily advanced on their position, but they were only holding them in place. Just as the realization was taking form in her mind, a Cardassian swung around the side of the storage container Jehil was leaning against. Feelee turned and shot him but too late, he’d shot Jehil in the stomach.

Jehil gritted his teeth against the pain, but still continued to fire back at the other Cardassians. “Feelee,” He struggled, “I’m not going to make it now, but I can hold them off so you can get out.”

“No! I won’t leave you!” She cried, her heart breaking. She would never have gotten this far without him, how could she leave him now?

“I’ve only got a few minutes before I bleed out.” He pulled off his earring with bloody fingers and handed it to her with the others. “Go, tell our families.”

She shook her head, unable to even speak now. She couldn’t do this without him.

Then he turned his phaser to point at her chest. “Go! Now!”

She wasn’t sure if he would really do it, but he was right, one of them had to get word to their families and it wasn’t going to be him. Before she could change her mind, she turned and hurried toward the opening of an access tunnel. She heard phaser fire behind her as she crawled through as quickly as she could against the pain in her ribs. Just as she found a ladder and began climbing it, the phaser fire suddenly stopped and a sick feeling gripped her heart. She was alone.

She pulled at the rungs until she reached the top and crept through the opening and into the hangar where there were two Cardassians technicians working at a console. She stepped quickly and quietly to the side and behind a piece of equipment. The prophets were with her, there were two ships parked not far away. Soon three soldiers emerged from the ladder she’d just come from. Two of them searched the room for her while the other inquired of the two at the console whether they had seen her.

She waited, crouched in her hiding place and checked her phaser. Not much power left, but she’d have at least the five shots she needed plus maybe a couple of extra. _Surprise, speed and position._ Rys had taught her.

She chose her targets in order of priority and waited until they moved relatively close to each other. Reaching her arm between two pieces of equipment, she fired twice in rapid succession, hitting her first two targets. By the third they’d scattered and she had to change position. She fired again and hit number three.

The last two were the technicians and they were cowering behind their console. One phaser blast to the console sent sparks flying and the technicians running. At that point she stepped out of her hiding place and shot them both.

Without waiting to see if any more soldiers would show up she ran to one of the ships and climbed in. It was a small craft, not designed for more than two people, and easily piloted by one. She tapped at the Cardassian interface and brought the ship to life. As it lifted off of the deck she moved to the weapons control part of the interface and fired her phasers at the second ship to disable it, then at the bay doors which were in the ceiling directly above her.

When she saw stars in the night sky, she punched the engines to maximum sub-impulse speed and the tiny ship shot out of the atmosphere within seconds. Without sparing a moment to see where she’d come from, she input the coordinates for the B’havel system and took the ship to maximum warp.


	4. It took her a moment to speak.

“Kira, I don’t know where you get off making a claim like that!” Dax said, “There is no way Tonsa is going to win tomorrow night’s springball match! Proshe is going to mop the floor with him.”

While Kira pondered the strange idiom the proximity alarm sounded on Dax’s console. “Major,” Dax said, her voice immediately serious, “We have a Cardassian long-range fighter entering sensor range dropping out of high warp.”

“Put it on screen.” Kira said and watched the diagram on the overhead screen. DS9 was indicated on the right with the Bajoran militia symbol and the fighter, shown by the Cardassian military symbol, entered from the left. “Hail the fi-“

“A Gallor-class ship just dropped out of warp.” Dax announced. A second Cardassian symbol appeared in hot pursuit of the first. As she watched, the fighter turned suddenly and veered off to one side.

“He’s staying outside of our tractor and weapons range.” Chief O’Brian pointed out.

The move cost him time, the Gallor-class ship overtook the fighter in seconds. “Hail both ships.” Kira ordered and paused, “Cardassian ships, this is Deep Space Nine, identify yourselves and explain why you have violated Bajoran space.” At the end of her request she heard Captain Sisko enter ops from his office and descend the stairs.

“No response.” Dax said.

“The Gallor-class ship has locked a tractor beam onto the fighter.” O’Brian said, changing the view on the screen to a live shot of the two ships.

“Neither ship has any identifying markings. Sensors indicate one Bajoran life sign on the fighter.” Dax said. Kira bristled at the thought.

“Worf, get the Defiant out there.” Sisko ordered.

The fighter’s engines glowed brightly, “He’s running his engines on full. He’s not going to be taken alive.” O’Brian pointed out.

Kira stared at the viewscreen as though she could will the little ship to break away from the tractor beam. Suddenly the fighter opened fire directly at the source of the tractor beam. The pilot was unleashing the entire firepower of the ship in one endless barrage, desperate to escape. “He’s going to burn out his weapons.” Almost the moment she said it, the weapons went silent and for several tense moments it looked like the gambit had failed.

“The tractor beam’s fluctuating.” O’Brian called out. As he said it the beam began to flicker and cut out completely. The fighter immediately went into a twisting nosedive. The tractor beam reengaged, but the fighter was already out of range, putting the station between itself and the other ship.

“Defiant’s away.” Dax called, but the Gallor-class ship had already turned and gone into warp out of Bajoran space. Seconds later the Defiant was visible entering warp right behind it.

Kira sighed, “Hail the fighter.”

Dax interrupted, “They’re hailing us. Audio-only.”

“Put it on.” Kira said.

 _“Rys?”_ Came a feminine voice.

There had only ever been one person who’d called her by the short version of her given name. The voice was familiar, too, but had an edge to it that was different than she remembered. It took her a moment to speak, and even then all she could say was “Feelee?”

Words tumbled quickly out of the comm, _“Rys! You have no idea how glad I am to hear your voice!”_

With her mind still trying to catch up, Kira repeated, “Feelee. What happened?” Kira finally managed to sputter.

This time Feelee paused, _“Delka… was not who we thought he was.”_

Kira closed her eyes, it made her sick to realize that they had sent a fourteen-year-old on an off-world mission with a collaborator. “I… I’m sorry.” Anger and guilt blinding her to anything else she could say.

Feelee’s voice was hard, _“Don’t be. I spent two weeks alone with him and I didn’t know.”_

Despite Feelee’s reassurance, a lump of guilt formed in her stomach. Feelee and Delka had disappeared four years ago. She must have spent those four years in some Cardassian prison. Dax’s report regarding the lack of markings on the ships added a deep sense of dread. The Obsidian Order was the only Cardassian group who could get away with using ships with no identification. How could she have even survived for that long in custody of The Order?

 _“Rys?”_ Feelee’s voice pulled her back to the present. _“What’s going on? Did we take the station? What’s it doing in the Denorius belt?”_

It suddenly dawned on her. Feelee had expected to come home to the same world she’d left. She didn’t know… “Feelee… the Cardassians are gone.”

Feelee used an expletive in the form of a question. Judging by the faces around ops, most of them knew what the word meant, but up until now, she didn’t realize that Feelee did.

“I’ll tell you everything later. For now, cut your engines and we’ll tow you to docking port 12.” She nodded for O’Brian to fulfill her statement.

 _“Alright.”_ Feelee cut the comm link.

Kira started toward the turbolift and Sisko joined her. As it began to descend she tapped her commbadge. “Kira to infirmary.”

_“Bashir here.”_

“Doctor, I need you to meet us at docking port 12. We have someone arriving who I believe has been a prisoner of the Obsidian Order for possibly the last four years. It’s likely she’ll need your care right away.”

_“Of course. I’m on my way.”_


	5. There were six of us.

Kira was quiet for the first few seconds of the turbolift ride. Eventually she spoke to Sisko without looking at him. “Feelee’s parents were members of Shakaar’s cell when she was born. Her mother died a short time later, before my time. We kept her hidden away at safe houses, monasteries, foster homes, anywhere we thought we could keep her safe and away from the violence. When she was old enough, she joined us. About six months before the Cardassians withdrew we sent her on a mission into Cardassian space with a man named Delka.”

“And Delka turned out to be a traitor.” He concluded.

She nodded, her face tight with anger. “We lost contact with them after a couple of weeks.” She turned to look at him, “I’ve looked for her. Every opportunity I’ve had, I looked. When Bareil negotiated the treaty and Bajoran prisoners were released from Cardassian custody, I’d hoped to find her among them. But when she wasn’t there I’d given up.”

She ran her fingers into her hairline in a gesture of frustration he’d seen before. “Now to find out she’s been in the custody of the _Obsidian Order_ all these years?” Her voice caught on the last part of her sentence. The lift arrived at the docking port, cutting off anything else she had to say.

They exited the turbolift and walked the short distance to docking port 12. Dr Bashir hurried up to them a moment later. The panel next to the airlock indicated the ship had docked. A few seconds later the doors began to roll away to reveal a figure on the other side.

Dirty and bloodstained prison clothes hung off of her too-thin body. Her wrists were bruised and raw from some kind of restraints. Hair fell stringy and uneven around her shoulders. A deep scar ran across her face from above her eyebrow, across the ridges of her nose and down to her cheek which was colored with a dark, fresh bruise. But when she saw Kira, her lips parted into a wide smile.

“Rys!” She called out and hurried toward her. They wrapped their arms around each other for a moment before Feelee pulled back in pain, pressing her hand to the right side of her ribs. Kira pulled back, concerned, but Feelee waived it off. “It’s ok, it’s fine.” She looked into Kira’s face and smiled, “You cut your hair!”

Kira didn’t smile, though, she was studying Feelee’s face.

Feelee suddenly looked self-conscious, “Is it bad?” She asked, referring to the scar. She must not have ever seen it.

Kira put on a fake smile and said, “Barely noticeable.”

One corner of Feelee’s mouth curled up into a smirk and her eyes narrowed playfully. “Lier.”

Kira finally smiled and let out a small, short laugh, then seemed to suddenly remember that the two of them weren’t alone. “This is Captain Sisko and Dr Bashir.”

Feelee eyed them for a moment then looked back at Kira questioningly.

“Starfleet is helping us run the station.” She explained, quickly.

The explanation seemed to be enough for Feelee, she turned her friendly smile toward him and took his outstretched hand in greeting. As her eyes met his, he was struck by their penetrating green color. So intense that they almost seemed to glow from within. The effect was mesmerizing and he found himself staring as though he couldn’t break away. Finally, a sticky sensation on his hand pulled his attention away. He let go of her hand to find dark red blood there.

She pulled her hand back as though she had forgotten it was bleeding, “Sorry.” Without a word, Bashir took her hand and began to examine it. She explained, “when the weapons failed, a power surge blew out the comm system and fried the panel. I had to break it open and wire it up manually. I guess the fragments were sharper than I realized.”

Bashir ran a dermal regenerator over the cut while Sisko pulled out a handkerchief and wiped his hand. After taking care of her hand, Bashir scanned her with his tricorder. “For starters, you have two broken ribs.”

Feelee didn’t seem surprised. “I believe that.”

“We can beam you directly to the infirmary.” He offered.

“I made it here from Cardassia, I _think_ I can walk.”

Kira began leading the group back toward the turbolift. “That ship belongs to the Obsidian Order, doesn’t it?”

“Yes.”

“Did you get any idea where on Cardassia you were being held?”

“No, but the ships logs will tell you. It won’t be much use, though. We’re pretty sure they were closing it out. If so, there won’t be anything left.” She said, her voice devoid of emotion.  
Kira had told him to “close out” was one of the terms the Cardassians used when they shut down a facility and killed all of the prisoners. Though, that wasn’t the part of her statement that caught his attention. “’We’?” He asked.

Before answering, she held out her left hand to give something to Kira. When Kira put out her hand she dropped a bundle of bloody and tarnished Bajoran earrings into it. “There were six of us.” She shook her head and added softly, “They didn’t make it.” Just then the turbolift doors opened and she stepped into it.

The rest of them followed her in silence, taking in the tragedy that her simple statement revealed.

Feelee seemed suddenly uncertain before asking Kira a deceptively simple question. “How is… everyone.”

Kira listed off a few names that he’d heard before: Latha, Gant, Mobra. And some others he hadn’t, all followed by various professions. She continued with, “…Furel and Lupaza have taken up _farming_.”

“Farming? Seriously? Shakaar too, I assume.”

“He was, now he’s the First Minister.”

She smiled, “That’s great… First Minister of what?”

“Bajor.”

Feelee’s eyes widened in surprise and her jaw dropped. “Really?”

“Really.”

“Shakaar?”

“Yes.”

“First Minister of Bajor?”

“Yes.”

“No.” She said skeptically.

“Yes.”

She laughed, finally accepting what her friend was telling her. “I can’t think of a better person for the job.” After the brief joyful moment, her smile faded. When Kira didn’t add any more, she asked doubtfully, “And my father?”

Kira’s lips tightened into a thin line. Kira’s almost black eyes held Feelee’s deep green ones without a word. If he didn’t know better he’d have thought they were communicating telepathically. Finally, Feelee turned away, taking Kira’s silence to mean her father had died. Sisko watched with sympathy as this tragic news was added to the burden she already carried. With skill that could only have come from a lifetime of dealing with pain and grief, she pushed it aside and turned her penetrating gaze back to Kira and asked, “What happened?”

Kira clearly didn’t want to provide details, “Feelee, I don’t—”

“Don’t _vhish_ with me, Rys!” She demanded more forcefully than he’d have expected. “What happened?”

Kira didn’t flinch, but only said with empathy, “He died protecting innocent people.”

Feelee reluctantly accepted that and continued working to repress the feelings of loss. When the turbolift jolted as it changed directions she gripped her ribs again, though barely reacted to the pain. Only moments later the doors opened to the promenade. Feelee’s eyes widened as she took in the space. He tried to remember what it had looked like the day he first arrived. It would certainly be a shock to see it now.

Before Kira and Bashir lead her to the infirmary, Sisko turned back to the turbolift, “I’ll head back to ops and wait to hear from Worf.”

“Let me know as soon as he checks in.” Kira bade.

“Of course.” He said as the doors closed.


	6. Feelee needs you here.

After Nurse Jabara took Feelee into the rear of the infirmary, Kira turned to leave. Her mind was reeling trying to grasp what had just happened. Feelee was alive, for that she was overjoyed. But the horror she must have been through was unimaginable. She pushed the thoughts away. This and the deaths of the other five demanded justice, but she doubted very much that would happen. The Obsidian Order didn’t even exist anymore. Not in any organized condition. And if this had been some rogue cell that had already been closed out, there wouldn’t be anyone left anyway.

Before she could leave, Dr. Bashir placed his hand on her shoulder to stop her. “Major, I think it would be best for you to stay.” He said gently.

She turned to face him, shaking her head. “There’s an investigation being carried out. The Defiant’s out there right now chasing down the ship that was pursuing her. I need to be in ops.”

“The others can handle that. Right now, Feelee needs you here.” He turned to the side, “You can use my work station. Replicate some clothes, arrange quarters, whatever needs to be done for her. You can even keep an eye on what’s happening in ops. But right now she needs you to be here.”

After a moment of indecision, she realized that he was right and sat down at the console without a word.


	7. She’s good at hiding her feelings.

While waiting for the doctor to take care of Feelee, Kira had replicated some clothes for her to wear. Purple had always been her favorite color. Then she arranged quarters for her and checked the transport schedules to Bajor for the next couple of days. Just when she had run out of things to keep mind on, Sisko had notified her that the Defiant was on its way back. They had caught up to the unmarked Gallor-class ship, but it self-destructed before they could find out anything. The trail to anyone responsible was quickly growing cold.

After a long while, Bashir returned to the forward part of the infirmary, carrying a padd.

“How is she?” She asked.

“She’ll be alright. She’s getting changed into the clothes you replicated for her. I’d like to see her again tomorrow morning, then I recommend some follow-up visits over the next few months.” He handed her the padd, “I assume she’ll be returning to Bajor, so I made a list of doctors that I recommend.”

“Thank you.”

He seemed more serious than usual, suddenly. “You may not be surprised to know this, but there is evidence of torture and sexual assault… long term.”

Anger blossomed in her mind, she shouldn’t be surprised, it was extremely common for Bajoran women in Cardassian custody to be assaulted that way. Still to hear it made her want to break something. Instead she reigned in the impulse and only nodded.

“She seems to be in very good spirits, but I suspect it’s only a front.”

“She’s good at hiding her feelings. Always has been.” She said, thinking back to all of the losses she’d suffered, the hardship and pain she’d endured without a tear, without a word of complaint. “Thank you, doctor. Can I see her?”

“Of course, she’s in the changing room in the back.”

Kira found her way to the closed door in the far back of the infirmary. She waited outside for a few moments before knocking softly on the door. She heard Feelee’s voice quietly invite her to enter, so she pressed the pad to open the door. When she stepped inside the small room she found Feelee sitting on the floor, her knees pulled to her chest and her head down. Deep, sorrowful sobs shook her body and Kira immediately knelt down next to her, wrapping her arms around her. Feelee rested her head on Kira’s chest and held on to her shoulders as tears continued to stream down her face.

She’d never seen her fall apart like this. Even that time when she was four-years-old and the Cardassians had leveled a small town in their search for her. They knew who she was and what she meant to Shakaar. That she was his one weak point. If they’d ever managed to find her, they wouldn’t hesitate to use her as leverage against him. It wasn’t until years later that they’d been able to wipe her identity from the Cardassian records.

There was nothing Kira could have done for the residents of the town, but she’d gotten Feelee out. She’d lived there for almost a year by then. It was practically the only home she remembered. The people there were her family. Yet she hadn’t shed a single tear. Not any of the times she’d had to leave people behind or been hurt or lost someone. But now… Whatever had happened to her, she had finally reached her breaking point.

Eventually her tears slowed and she pulled back to look at Kira. Her green eyes were as bright as ever, even when edged in red from crying. Bashir had treated the scar on her face so that only a thin line remained. She looked clean and the bruises on her face and wrists were gone. She’d grown into a beautiful young woman.

Finally managing a smile, Feelee stood up, smoothing her clothes, “Purple.”

“I thought you’d like it.” As she led her out of the room she said, “I arranged quarters for you, I’ll take you there now, and then…”

Feelee stopped, forcing Kira to stop and turn around to face her. “What’s wrong?” She asked.

“Can I stay with you?” She asked uncharacteristically uncertain. “I don’t want to be alone.”

“Of course!” She stepped close and put an arm around her shoulder, “I’ll take you to my quarters. Then we can contact Shakaar.”


	8. It’s not your fault.

Feelee could barely comprehend her situation. Only two days ago she’d been sitting in her cell, wishing for death. Even after she’d escaped, she expected to return to a still-occupied Bajor. Expected to reach home only to find that everyone she cared about had been dead for a long time. The news of her father’s death had been difficult to hear, but she’d mourned him, all of them, a long time ago. To find that almost all of them were still alive, and leading happy lives on a free Bajor seemed too good to be true.

Rys had told her about some of the things that had happened since the Cardassians withdrew. The Emissary, the Celestial Temple, request for Federation membership, Shakaar’s election. By the time they reached her quarters, Feelee felt like she’d been brought up to date.

“I haven’t contacted Shakaar, yet. I thought maybe you’d like to be here for that.” Rys said, sitting down at the console in her quarters.

“Yes, I’d like that.” She stood behind Rys, but to the side where she wouldn’t immediately be visible on the comm. She watched while Rys connected to the office of the first minister and a man’s face, not Shakaar’s, appeared.

“Sarish, it’s good to see you.” Rys greeted him.

_“You as well, Major. What can I do for you?”_

“I wanted to talk to Shakaar.”

_“He’s in a meeting with the minister of internal relations, is it urgent?”_

“Not urgent, but something he’s going to want to hear right away.”

_“Can I pass on a message?”_

“It’s personal. Any idea how long the meeting is expected to last?”

_“I’m not sure, they’ve been in there for three hours.”_ He thought for a moment, _“Perhaps I can slip him a note to let him know you wish to speak with him.”_

“Thank you, I’d appreciate that.”

The screen went blank for a few minutes. A three-hour meeting with the “minister of internal relations” didn’t sound enjoyable at all. Finally, the screen came back on but instead of Sarish, Shakaar’s face appeared. _“Thank you, Nerys, I’ve been trying to get out of that meeting for an hour.”_ He smiled and the corners of his eyes crinkled.

After her breakdown in the infirmary, she’d pulled herself together and managed to rebuild the emotional barriers she’d learned long ago to maintain. It had been the only way to survive her childhood, and her only defense during her imprisonment.

But the moment she saw his face and heard his voice, those barriers began to crumble. She loved him nearly as much as she’d loved her own father and he’d always treated her like she was his own. She suddenly felt like a little girl, scared and alone. Everything she’d been holding back felt like it would come tumbling out at that moment. She took a deep breath and worked to reign in her emotions, rebuild her control once again.

Rys laughed, oblivious to her near breakdown, and said, “You owe me one, then.”

_“It won’t be the first.”_ He mumbled.

“Listen, I have somebody here that you’re going to be happy to see.” She stood up and moved away so Feelee could sit down.

Recognition mixed with shock spread across his face. _“Feelee!”_ He said, his mouth gaping.

She smiled at his speechlessness.

He smiled slightly only to have it vanish again. _“Feelee, your father…”_

“I know, Rys told me.” He and her father had been close friends, though that could be said of any member of their cell.

_“He never gave up hope that we’d find you alive.”_ He said earnestly, then paused. “Where’ve you been?”

She filled him in on what had happened, glossing over the worst of the details, or avoiding them altogether. She knew he would feel responsible for what had happened to her. He was their leader, he gave the order for her to go, and he would listen to no argument about blame. But it wasn’t as simple as that.

Ever since she was very young she’d known exactly how to manipulate him. The pleading eyes, the sweet smile, she almost always got her way. She’d wanted to go on that mission to prove that she was one of them. And she had knowingly maneuvered him into sending her. As she went on he lowered his eyes, his expression confirming her expectations.

_“I’m sorry.”_ He said, finally.

“It’s not your fault.” She insisted, but he didn’t accept that, instead he changed the subject.

_“I’m sure Nerys filled you in on what’s been happening here?”_

“Yes. I’m looking forward to seeing Bajor again. And greeting the first minister in person.”

_“Good.”_ He said warmly. _“You’ll stay with me at my home until you get used to things.”_ It was a statement, not a suggestion. _“When will you arrive?”_

“Tomorrow evening. I’m sure Rys can give you the exact time and ship I’ll be on.” She hadn’t even thought about details like that, being so overwhelmed with everything else.

_“I’ll be there to meet you.”_ He promised.

“I’ll see you soon, then.” With that she ended the transmission and leaned back in the chair. “He blames himself.”

Rys moved to another part of the room and sat on the couch. “He always has.”

Feelee stood up, “It’s not his fault. I insisted on going! I manipulated him into sending me!”

Rys remained calm, “You’re welcome to try and convince him of that.”

Feelee sighed, “I think I’ll have to.” Resigned, she moved to sit next to Rys.

“If any of us had any idea…”

“Don’t.” She held up her hand to stop her, she didn’t need ‘ifs’. “There’s no way you could have known. I just wonder how many more places like it there were.”

“There’s no way to know.”

Feelee looked at her hands for a long time. They had been dirty, bloody and bruised for so long that she almost didn’t recognize them now. “I wish I could say that I never gave up hope, that I knew I’d make it out of there somehow.” She shook her head, Rys was probably the one and only person she could admit this to, “I…” her throat tightened and she couldn’t finish.

Rys grasped her hand. “It’s over now. You’re home.”

She took a deep breath to recover. “So, now what am I supposed to do? Just go on and live a normal live like nothing happened?”

“Nobody expects you to jump right in like nothing happened. You’ll have all of us to help you through it.”

She blinked away the tears stinging her eyes and squeezed Rys’ hand.


	9. Get a grip on yourself.

After a restless night, Feelee felt like she needed to be around people. Rys had had to report to ops, so Feelee decided to check out the promenade. While her system got accustomed to proper food again, the doctor had warned her to take it easy and eat milder food at first. That ruled out most of the restaurants. So, using an account Rys had set up for her, she ordered some fruit and yogurt at the replimat.

She sat and ate her breakfast while people passed by, oblivious to the fact that she was any different. Before she left Rys’ quarters, she had replicated a tablet of paper and pen to bring with her. It had been so long since she’d been able to do anything creative that it felt good to just doodle for a while. She sketched bits and pieces of the things around her: banners, tables, the upper railing, some people, even, if they would hold still long enough. Before she knew it, she’d filled up three pages with random drawings.

Eventually fatigue began to overwhelm her. It would take a while until her body had recovered from the ordeal. She decided to give in and lay down for a while and soon found herself walking alone down the corridor toward Rys’ quarters. 

The hair on the back of her neck began to stand up and she felt like she wasn’t alone but when she looked, there was no one. She dismissed it as her mind playing tricks on her, it probably would happen from time to time. But no matter how she tried to convince herself that she was imagining it, she couldn’t shake the feeling. By the time she got to her destination she had chills running down her spine. She keyed open the door and hurried inside, locking the door behind her.

She dropped the papers down on the table and paced the room a few times. _Get a grip on yourself._ She thought, but when she heard the sounds of a lock override on the other side of the door, she realized she wasn’t being paranoid after all.

With her heart pounding, she looked around the room for another way out. Finally, she settled on the access conduits. She climbed up onto the desk and reached up to dislodge the grate in the ceiling and began pulling herself inside. It was harder than she’d expected, the starvation diet she’d been given for the last four years must have weakened her considerably, but she managed to get herself inside and slid the grate back into place before the door below opened. But by then she was already crawling quickly but quietly toward the corridor.

Blocking her rout back to the corridor, she found a locked hatchway. Using the access code she’d seen Rys use earlier, she was able to open it and continued crawling along the conduit above the corridor. She dropped down just as the intruder came back out and she saw him for the first time, a Kressari. Feelee turned and sprinted down the corridor in the opposite direction.

She was faster than him, but just barely. She rounded a corner to the left and ran down the crossover bridge that lead to the docking ring. The long, straight stretch offered no cover, so she sprinted at full speed to the other end. By the time the Kressari reached the bridge, she was nearly at the other end.

Feelee ducked as a disrupter blast lanced over her head, leaving a burn mark on the bulkhead. It was not set to stun. Hoping the weapon’s discharge would alert security, she turned the corner and stopped at the first cargo bay door. Using Rys’ code again, she let herself inside. The bay was packed with tall stacks of cargo with a maze of walkways between. She began winding her way through, searching for anything she could use as a weapon. Just as she heard the bay doors open again, she saw something she could use: a prybar. She grabbed the curved end and slid it out of its resting place with a _shink_ sound that filled the space.

Now armed, Feelee moved slowly between the crates, listening for the enemy. Suddenly she caught a glimpse of him between two stacks and he fired at her. She ducked and hurried away, snaking her way through to find a place to fight back. Finally, the pathway opened up to an empty space large enough for her to work with, and a path to another exit door if she needed it. She listened for her pursuer and pressed herself against the wall of cargo to the left of the pathway. She hefted the prybar in her right hand and lifted it, ready to strike.

As soon as his hand and disrupter were visible, she swung the prybar upward then down to smash into his hand. His armor prevented his bones from breaking, but the phaser was knocked out of his hand and went sliding away. Changing the momentum to a sideways strike, she swung the prybar again and struck him across the face. Again, his boney armor protected him from severe damage. She prepared to strike again, but he grabbed her arm and punched her in the stomach. While she struggled to refill her lungs with air, he twisted her arm around behind her back and tried to pull the prybar out of her grip.

She found her footing and shoved backwards, slamming him against a stack of crates. The crates gave way and they both tumbled back. She lost her grip on the prybar, but heard it go clanging away from them both. She rolled sideways to get back to her feet, but he was just as fast. She dodged a left, then a right. Then he rushed straight at her, using his greater strength and size to restrain her, holding her from behind. She let her legs drop out from under her and heaved him over her shoulder but he held on to her, pulling her with him. No matter how she fought, he was too strong.

Through their struggles, she heard the bay doors open and the footsteps of at least half a dozen people entering. The Kressari, still fighting to hold on to her, suddenly reached to the side. He pressed his disrupter to her right temple and hauled her to her feet to face the station security team, led by Rys and the shapeshifter.

He didn’t have to say a word, they understood and held back.

Feelee continued to fight him, even with the phaser pressed hard against her head. His facial barbs dug painfully into her cheek as he held her tight. “Go ahead, do it. And they’ll shoot you on the spot.” She taunted him. “Especially her. She _will kill you._ ” She continued, indicating Rys. With his attention marginally diverted, she was able to slip her right elbow up inside his and grasped his forearm with her left hand.

When she felt like she had the right combination of distraction and leverage she twisted her right arm down and shoved his hand up with her left. He pressed the trigger, but his disrupter discharged wildly up toward the ceiling. Continuing her twisting motion, she jerked downward with his arm and hurled him over her shoulder. He held on to her, pulling her down again, but she wrenched the phaser out of his hand as she tumbled over him.

Feelee rolled back upright onto one knee, immediately pointing the phaser at him. She froze in position to catch her breath until two deputies moved in on him. Finally, she stood up and gave Rys an easygoing smile and said lightly, "Hey, how's it going?" Then she tossed the disrupter to her.

Rys’ relieved expression suddenly left her face and she shouted, “No!” And rushed toward him. But it was too late, the Kressari had slipped some kind of suicide pill into his mouth and was already dead by the time she reached him. Disappointed, she turned to Feelee, “Are you ok?”

Feelee dabbed at the bloody scratches on her cheek, but other than that, she was uninjured. “Fine. You?” She said casually.

Rys ran a hand through her hair in exasperation while the shapeshifter approached, “I suggest we place a security detail on her immediately.” He said.

“Agreed. And increase security on the transport she’s taking to Bajor this evening.” Rys said, shooting Feelee a disapproving look.


	10. I’m going home

“I wish you’d stay on the station for a few more days.” Rys told her as they stood at the airlock. “At least until we have a better idea of who sent that Kressari, and whether there are going to be more attacks.”

“Rys. I was a prisoner on Cardassia for four years. I’m not about to be a prisoner of my own fear.” Feelee held her gaze. “I’m going home. I’m going to live my life now that I finally have it back.”

Rys sighed, “I understand that. But at least wait until we know you’re safe.”

“When has it ever been safe?” She laughed without amusement, “I’m not even sure what it’s like to be ‘safe.’” She reached out to touch her arm, “From the instant I left Cardassia, every moment of my life is priceless. I won’t waste any of it cowering in a corner.”

Rys sighed and reached her arms around her for a hug. “Be careful.”

“I will.” She whispered before breaking the embrace and stepping up into the airlock.


	11. Epilogue

Nihu had settled into a seat on the transport next to a young woman with vibrant green eyes. They’d traveled most of the way to Bajor in silence, Nihu reading a novel she’d been working on and the young woman was sketching something on a stack of paper.

Finally, Nihu’s curiosity got the better of her, “What are you working on, dear?”

Without a word, she turned the paper for her to see a _solri_ , an intricate, repeating pattern with a more-or-less circular design.

“It’s beautiful.”

“Thank you.”

“My name is Nihu, by the way.”

“Feelee.”

“Are you returning home or do you live on the station?”

“Um… returning home. Though I haven’t been on Bajor for over four years.” Since before the Withdrawal.

“You’re in for a surprise, then. It’s been wonderful to see the restoration progress during the last couple of years. I’m old enough to remember what it was like before the Cardassians came and I hope I’m still around when it’s returned to its former beauty.”

Feelee smiled wistfully and watched out the window as the green planet came into view. She stared, transfixed and Nihu thought she saw tears in her eyes. She understood, she still got that way sometimes when coming home.

As they began their descent through a layer of clouds she asked, “Are you meeting someone at the port?”

“Yes, my _ansahlam_.” Step-father or godfather, few people used that term anymore unless they grew up in Dakur.

“I hope you have a good reunion.”

They watched in silence the scenery grow larger as the transport neared the ground. The capitol port was certainly one of the most beautiful on the planet. There was barely a shutter when they touched down. Nihu gathered her belongings, expecting to disembark immediately, but the hatch remained closed. As the time stretched on, people began to murmur and strained to see outside.

There was some kind of commotion. A number of militia security officers moved purposely around and a personal transport vehicle could be seen a distance away. Finally, someone in front of her leaned back and told them. “The first minister out there!” Excitement buzzed around the cabin as people tried to catch a glimpse of their leader.

After a long time, the hatch opened and the passengers were slowly ushered out in single file. When she and Feelee reached the hatch, she could see that they were being guided away in a specific direction, away from the first minister.

As they were passing by, one of the security officers stopped Feelee and asked for her thumbscan. Once he had checked her identity, he stepped aside and allowed her out of line. To Nihu’s amazement, she walked straight toward the first minister’s craft without anyone stopping her. When she was half way there, Shakaar stepped out of the vehicle and Feelee hurried up her pace, finally throwing herself into his arms when she reached him. Nihu smiled, a happy reunion indeed.


	12. Few nights went by without one of these nightmares

She woke to a bang of thunder big enough to rattle the window next to her bed, then more thunder in the near distance. She listened to hear rain, but none came. This was no thunder storm. Even at the age of four, she understood that.

A man burst into her bedroom in the darkness. She couldn’t see his face, but knew it was Silvol, her guardian. He rushed to her with her jacket in his hand and pulled her quickly to her feet. “Put this on.” He said, pressing the jacket into her hands.

While she was still threading her hand through the first arm of the jacket, he pulled her along behind him, winding his way through the house toward the back door. Once there, he scooped her up in his arms and dashed out into the cold night air with the sound of pounding on the front door behind them.

“It’s okay, Feelee, you’ll be okay.” He said as he ran with her.

Outside she could see flashes of light that preceded the bangs, along with discharges of energy weapons all around them. The Cardassians had come looking for her, and they were going to kill all of these people to find her.

They passed some idle pieces of farm equipment, and just before they reached the edge of the clearing, a Cardassian soldier appeared in front of them. He smashed the butt of his rifle into Silvol’s face and they tumbled to the ground. The Cardassian pointed his weapon at him and fired then wrapped his arm around her chest from behind and lifted her up. She screamed Silvol’s name, but he didn’t respond. The ridge of the Cardassian’s uniform dug painfully into her back as she kicked and fought uselessly.

“I have the target.” He said into his wrist, then reached down to gather up her flailing legs with his free arm.

With all of her twisting and jerking, one hand came free and she reached up to his face and raked her nails across his skin. With blood streaming down his face in parallel lines, he dropped her and she rolled away.

It didn’t take him long to recover and move to come after her again. She backed herself tight against the farm equipment, but there was nowhere to go. Before he reached her, a blinding flash of light caught him in the chest and he stumbled backward to the ground.

Wide-eyed, Feelee looked for the source, but it was too dark. In the flash of phaser fire from somewhere else, she caught site of her rescuer. She didn’t recognize her, but she was a Bajoran with a phaser, and that was good enough for her.

The teenage girl motioned for her to stay where she was just as weapons fire erupted between them. The moment it stopped, she dashed across the gap to take hold of Feelee’s hand. “My name is Nerys, you need to come with me.” She said and pulled her toward the tree line.

Feelee turned to look back at the village to see a sickening red glow coming up from behind the buildings.

“No, don’t look.” Nerys grabbed her shoulder and turned her around.

Feelee followed obediently, recognizing this path through the trees as one of the escape routes she’d had to memorize. Nerys’ hand remained clamped onto hers and she guided her faster and faster through the forest. Sticks and thorns jabbed at her bare feet, but she ran as fast as she could to keep up.

No matter how fast they ran, Cardassian soldiers behind them began to close the gap. They rounded a sharp bend and Nerys wrapped her arms around her and dove into the thick brush to the side of the path. With the older girl’s body wrapped around Feelee’s, they tumbled down the slope to a stop.

Cardassians slowed their pace back on the path with scanners in their hands and began searching.

Nerys clamped her hand over Feelee’s mouth and shushed her gently. Feelee sucked air in through her nose to catch her breath. Some kind of electronic device pinned to Nerys’ shirt felt hard and cold against Feelee’s cheek. She thought maybe it might be something to block the sensors.

She couldn’t hear much of anything over the ringing in her ears from the explosions other than the internal sounds of her heartbeat and breathing. But she watched for the lights from the Cardassians’ scanners to move away.

Finally, Nerys relaxed her old on her and Feelee rolled out onto her knees.

Nerys raised a communicator to her mouth and spoke quietly into it. “I have her, but we’re pinned down. Need cover.”

A Cardassian crashed through the brush behind them and grabbed Nerys by her collar and threw her backwards against a tree trunk.

“’rys!” She screamed, tripping over her name. The communicator flew out of her hand and Feelee lunged to grab it. She heard someone, it might have been Shakaar, ask about their location.

“We’re on the south route, just past the bend.” She said quickly as the Cardassian grabbed Nerys again. He lifted her up as though to throw her again, but she wrapped her arms around his head and rammed her knee into his face.

He dropped her and she rolled away to her feet. Feelee didn’t see what happened next because another Cardassian grabbed her from behind and began hauling her away.

\- - -

Feelee woke suddenly with her heart pounding in her head, gasping for air. Her throat felt raw like she’d been screaming. Again.

She shook her head as though that would make the memory go away. People had died because of her since before she could remember. She didn’t pull the trigger, but their deaths continued to haunt her as though she had.

Few nights went by without one of these nightmares. Either this one or one of the others that tormented her over and over. She wrapped her arms around her head and wondered if it would ever stop.


	13. It was the least she could to do ease his burden

Feelee checked through a row of katterpods and picked handfuls of almost-too-mature pods. Shakaar was usually meticulous about his garden. Being a farmer at heart, he couldn’t quite seem to leave that life completely behind, but all he could manage to do as First Minister was a small, personal garden. Lately, though, he hadn’t given it the care he usually did, not since the Dominion had taken control of the station.

Just thinking about it formed a weight in the pit of her stomach. She could hardly believe that after everything they’d fought for and accomplished, they were on the verge of being back under the crushing boot of the Cardassians once again. And this time, they could expect far greater abuse and far less freedom than they’d experienced during the first occupation.

That lump in her stomach twisted tighter at the thought of those two words together: first occupation. For there to be a _second_ occupation was unthinkable, she wasn’t sure her people would survive.

Then there was Rys up there on that station. She was practically a prisoner. Not permitted to leave, all communications monitored, forced to work side by side with _them_. All while the people of Bajor waited and prayed for the Emissary to return to save them. For all the weight and dread Feelee felt, Shakaar’s must have been much more.

Feelee stood up with a basket of katterpods and other produce propped against her hip and started toward the First Minister’s residence with Lieutenant Sorr, her security escort. Ever since The True Way had made multiple attempts on Shakaar’s life, his staff had insisted on assigning a security detail to her for fear that if they couldn’t get to him, they’d come after her. Same old story of her childhood all over again.

Shakaar had agreed, insisting that even though she was capable of defending herself, she ‘shouldn’t have to.’ And, so she conceded… under duress. Though, despite his official approval of the security arrangements, the two of them had slipped away from their security details on a number of occasions, bringing a few choice words down on them from Rys and Sarish each time.

Sorr reached out to the keypad at the back door to unlock it for her and followed her inside. She’d lived here at the First Minister’s Residence for a few months after her return home while she began her physical and emotional recovery. After she obtained a job with the Bajoran Historical Arts Recovery program that worked to restore and recover artwork that had been vandalized by the Cardassians, she’d moved into her own home and began the slow process of establishing herself.

Shakaar still frequently called on her to cook for him when he had to host gatherings of political officials or off world dignitaries. Because of her connection to him, when she was a child, they had always kept her hidden from the Cardassians who continually searched for her, intending to use her to manipulate him. There were a number of times they’d almost caught her.

One of the places she’d stayed for several years was the Olkirno monastery. The monks there worked to preserve the Bajoran culinary arts despite the privation and hardships of the Occupation. They taught her all of it. And she was happy to use what she’d learned to help Shakaar in any way possible… usually.

She made her way to the kitchen and set about washing the produce she’d picked while Sorr stood nearby. She tried not to resent the constant security presence. He’d been a member of the Resistance, and he was enjoyable to be around, at least. More than once, she wondered if she could take him on if the need ever arose and a small curl crept onto her lips at the thought.

 _“The party is arriving at the residence.”_ A voice she recognized as Lieutenant Telle came over Sorr’s comm.

“You ready?” Sorr asked Feelee.

She sighed heavily. “If I say ‘no’ could you make them go away?”

“If only I could.” He said, shaking his head.

She’d been dreading this ever since Shakaar had brought it up. Their Dominion ‘friends’ had presumptuously planned a visit to Bajor. Shakaar had detested the idea, but since the Emissary himself had instructed them to cooperate with the Dominion, he’d had no choice but to oblige.

She’d initially protested this dinner, the thought of cooking for them was beyond revolting, but Shakaar had begged her, pointing out that he would have to spend the entire day with them. In the end, she’d given in, it was the least she could to do ease his burden. The small comfort in the situation was that Gul Ducat would likewise have to get along with the former leader of a Resistance cell that had embarrassed him so badly during the Occupation.

The sound of _them_ entering the house made her skin crawl already, but she focused her thoughts on the food preparation, planning a menu based on what she’d just picked out of the garden and what was in the cupboards. She’d considered serving something too spicy for the Cardassians to tolerate, but Shakaar had specifically asked her to ‘play nice’ so she refrained.

She _had_ hoped they would stay out of the kitchen so she wouldn’t have to interact until dinner, but she caught a couple of words from a voice she didn’t recognize: ‘meet’ and ‘Feelee’ followed by the distinct sounds of Cardassians entering the room behind her, if the Vorta was with them, he by contrast seemed to move with complete silence. Swallowing her disgust, she turned to them.

Shakaar’s aid, Sarish, accompanied them, looking more harried than she’d ever seen the unflappable man. “May I introduce Feelee, she’s preparing the meal for this evening.” He said with a smile that looked like it had been plastered on for hours. “Feelee, I’m sure you recognize our Dominion representatives, Weyoun, Gul Ducat and Glinn Damar.”

She barely managed a half smile and a tip of her head before she had to turn back around. Since Shakaar wasn’t with them, she assumed he’d made some excuse to break away for a few minutes of peace. Even Sarish quietly excused himself for a short break.

She sensed more than heard Weyoun move close behind her. “I’ve always been fascinated by the process of food preparation. Do you mind if I observe?”

 _‘Always’? As in, since this latest clone was activated?_ She almost said, but bit off the jab. Play nice, she reminded herself. “Whatever you want.” She said and went about her preparations, picking up a knife to cut up an allium bulb.

“What’s the matter, Weyoun? Worried she’d try to poison us?” Damar said.

She had to admit, the thought had crossed her mind, but no matter how satisfying, it would be a bad move.

“Oh, I’m sure she’s far too smart for that.” Ducat said smoothly.

“Don’t worry, I’d make it look like natural causes.” She shot back, drawing a satisfying scowl from Damar.

“Besides,” Ducat continued as though she hadn’t spoken, “The Vorta are immune to almost all poisons.”

Good to know. Just in case.

She turned back to her task, moving about the kitchen preparing the various dishes from memory. One crucial lesson the monks had taught her was how to modify a dish for the ingredients that were available right then, adjusting for how the flavor and texture of each item would play against the others to always end up with a unique, pleasing and seasonal result.

The sudden, rubbery creak of a Cardassian uniform right behind her sent chills crawling up her neck. Her jaw muscles tightened at the memory of those uniforms being unlatched as a prison guard descended upon her. Her fist gripped the hilt of the knife. Her heart pounded in her ears. She forced herself not to flinch when gray hands rested on her shoulders.

 _“Don’t touch me.”_ She hissed through clenched teeth.

Ducat immediately raised his hands and backed up a step as though complying to some unreasonable demand. “My apologies. I just wanted to see what has Weyoun so enthralled.”

She consciously uncurled her fingers from the knife for fear that she might be tempted to use it.

Oblivious to her internal struggle to not plunge the knife into his chest, he continued, “I’ve always fondness for Bajoran cuisine.”

“You mean the food you stole out of the mouths of Bajoran children?” She snapped before she could stop herself.

Ducat pressed his imposing presence over her with a scowl, but she would not be stared down. Despite his cordial pretense, he knew exactly who she was. He’d been the one all those years ago that ordered her to be hunted down, killing hundreds of people so he could use her as leverage. If he’d ever caught her, she never knew whether he’d have pressured Shakaar using only empty threats or if he would have actually given the order for a child to be tortured. She didn’t want to know the answer.

Out of the corner of her eye, she could see Sorr tense, but he made no move to inflame the situation.

Instead, Weyoun rested an unsettlingly gentle hand on her shoulder, but spoke to Ducat. “Perhaps, we should leave Ms. Feelee to her task.”

Slowly Ducat backed away from her and the three shuffled out of the room.

“Are you okay?” Sorr asked, stepping closer to her.

She snorted softly, “Trust me, I wasn’t the one in immediate danger.” She glanced down at the knife that still rested on the counter under her open hand.

She took a deep breath to break herself out of the mental state and reached toward the computer interface to play some music to clear her head.

While the food cooked and the music blared loudly, she opened the cupboards to select serving dishes in colors that would complement or contrast with each food item. Presentation was as much part of the preparation as the food itself.

* * *

Sorr moved back to a place where he could see both entrances to the kitchen while other security officers kept an eye on their visitors elsewhere in the estate. His attention wavered momentarily as he watched the unpredictable Feelee continue about her task. Her ordinarily animated and vibrant personality returned to the surface, though the volatility from a moment ago always simmered not far below.

By the time one of her favorite songs came on the broadcast, one would never guess that she’d just dominated a faceoff against one of their people’s most hated enemies. He watched her move to the music and sing along to it as she worked. It wasn’t until the First Minister appeared in the doorway that he realized he’d been staring.

Sorr straightened up while Shakaar spotted Feelee on the other side of the room.

Shakaar walked over to her without a word and wrapped his arm around her shoulder with a peck on her forehead.

Feelee flashed him a sweet smile with those eyes that could enslave an army.

He said something to her that was lost under the music and she nodded to him. Satisfied with whatever it was, Shakaar made his way back out.

She began plating dishes and setting aside portions of each for the staff to have later. Finally, she turned everything off other than some kind of berry dessert that was still in the oven.

She hesitated and glanced over at him. “Wanna take bets on how long until I’ll mouth off again?”

“That was a whole ten minutes, I think that might have been a record for you.” He teased. Then she shot that same smile his way and his heart soared.


	14. Alone surrounded by people.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> (sometime after the end of the Dominion war)

Sorr stood dutifully near Feelee as she hunched over a vandalized three-thousand-year-old painting of Kai Aku. She had an array of nearly identical green paint swatches fanned out between her fingers, meticulously comparing the paints to find an identical match for the restoration artist to use. She took out a few and rejected them, rearranging the stack.

The soft, traditional Bajoran music the other artists preferred was disrupted in this corner of the studio by the music overflowing from her earphones. He’d given up hassling her about listening at such a volume. She just continually pointed out to him that it was no worse than having been in the midst of battle. Not unlike the way she’d pushed herself so hard during her physical recovery against the doctors’ advice, adamantly stating that what she did was her choice to make. No doubt a direct response to the situation she’d been in all those years.

Just as he was considering making the case again, the restoration director, Mr. Ora, came through the door followed by a small group of Starfleet uniforms. The studio didn’t usually allow visitors, but during the morning briefing the First Minister’s security team was informed that the delegation from Starfleet would be visiting several planet-side locations before the pre-signing reception that night. The party consisted of two Admirals and the captain and first officers of the ship that had brought them. Specifically: Ross, T'hok, Yuan and Oluchi.

“…here you can see Aktosh reconstructing a sculpture of Vedic Tuvu, and here you’ll find Jelet working on an iconic painting of Enyan a minister from the Second Republic. Feel free to look around, ask our artists questions, but, please, don’t touch anything.”

The four visitors spread out in twos, the admirals eventually making their way toward Feelee’s workspace.

She reached up and tugged the earphones out of her ears at their approach.

“So, what is it you do?” Admiral Ross asked her.

When she turned those vivid green eyes toward him, Sorr caught the Admiral’s tiniest double-take. “I match the paint types, colors and textures for the restoration artists to use as well as brushes, application techniques and layering. Basically, I reverse-engineer what the original artist did.”

“How long does that take?”

“It can take up to a month to be sure I have all of the variables right. And that’s after the repair team has done their work.” She indicated the blemish left behind after the graffiti had been removed. “When I’m finished, the artists will use existing photographs, earlier reproductions and holo-images of the piece to perfectly restore the damage using contemporary materials.”

“And if no reference material exists?” T’hok asked.

“In that case, and if the piece is too damaged to infer the artwork that was lost, we repair the damage and fill in the gaps with a neutral color.”

“Sounds like a tedious process.” Ross commented.

“It is. And we’ve barely even begun.” She pointed out entry to the warehouse full of crates of artwork waiting to be tended to. “But it’s an honor to have even a small part in restoring what was taken from Bajor.”

Their gaze followed her hand toward the open warehouse doors.

“You’ll be able to view some of our finished pieces and these that are in progress at the reception tonight.” Feelee said, returning to her work.

The pair of admirals moved on to Jundu’s workspace where he was in the process of microscopically rejoining the weave of a canvas that had been slashed.

The reception had the entire security staff on high alert, even more so than the signing ceremony. It was a tempting target for any number of factions that still popped up from time to time, not to mention off-world threats. Sorr would have to stick close to her.

“You ready for tonight?” She asked him, seeming to read his mind.

“I certainly hope we are. You?”

She only sighed. It had only been a few years since her return from Cardassia and these grand social gathering were not something she looked forward to.

“We could fake an abduction to get out of it.” She suggested.

“That would do the trick.” He said with a low snicker. “But I’m pretty sure we’d both be arrested.”

“Spending a night in a holding cell with you sounds like a lot more fun than this reception.” She muttered into the painting.

His mind raced for a response, but she didn’t seem to notice, only replacing her earphones to focus on her work.

* * *

Sorr nodded to the security guard at the door of the reception hall balcony as he followed Feelee through. She’d played the part of the First Minister’s godchild and the studious artist’s assistant for longer than could be expected tonight. She’d smiled and talked and done everything they needed her to do to be part of the face of the new Bajor.

Now she’d left the crowd behind to be alone out in the chilly evening. As alone as she could ever hope to be, anyway. He held back from her, giving her the space she needed.

She stepped up to the railing of the balcony with the lights from the party behind them sparkling across her blue-green formal dress. Thin scars across her shoulders blemished her skin but couldn’t mar her beauty. In his opinion, anyway.

He watched her stare out at the capitol city’s gardens and the ministerial offices that dotted between them. When she turned to the side he saw tears in her eye.

* * *

Over the shoulder of a Starfleet Commander who he’d already forgotten his name, Shakaar spotted Feelee out on the dark balcony. He could see the toll this was all taking on her. It was too much, too soon, she needed more time.

People were fascinated by the young woman that the First Minister cared for so deeply, her escape from Cardassia had aroused the imaginations of those who had lost loved ones there and her dynamic personality had won over their hearts. But the fact that their motivation was positive didn’t make it easier on her. He hated the fact that his position was to blame and he resolved to push back on all of the publicity that was being thrust her way.

He excused himself and made a move to join her, but was once again intercepted. By Admiral T’hok this time and he immediately began formulating a plan to extricate himself from the conversation as quickly as possible.

* * *

She should have been happy. As a little girl she’d dreamed of a day when the Cardassians would be gone. She’d have enough to eat and would wear pretty clothes. She’d go where she wanted whenever she wished. She’d have everything she could possibly want.

But she couldn’t.

During her imprisonment, before despair had broken her, the best she could have longed for was a return to the life of a Resistance fighter. And now she had so much more. Why couldn’t she be happy?

Dr. Galia had called it ‘survivor guilt,’ but labeling it did nothing to diminish the feeling. There was no changing the fact that she was here, living a free and indulgent, practically affluent life and those who were in that prison with her were gone. Murdered and their remains vaporized during the Order’s cleanup as though they had never existed. The investigation had gone cold. No justice had ever been provided for them.

And here she was. Alone surrounded by people. An anomaly among her own kind.

She fought to reign in the tears that stung her eyes before turning to her security escort. “What am I doing wrong?” She said, barely above a whisper.

He took a couple of steps toward her. “Nothing.”

“ ‘Live life on behalf of those who can’t.’ ” She quoted an often repeated saying among survivors all over Bajor. “Somehow it doesn’t feel like enough.”

“Nothing will ever be enough.” He moved even closer. “You can’t honor their sacrifice by saying and thinking and feeling certain things. You can’t go through the motions of some idealized life and expect it to take the pain away. And you can’t go on dragging their memory along with you.”

She stared up into his face and, for a moment, no longer felt alone.

He reached out and ran the back of his fingers down her bare shoulder and along her arm, gently grasping her hand when he reached it.

She leaned forward, longing to be closer, rising up onto her toes to reach him.

He leaned down to brush his lips against hers.

It wasn’t enough. She reached up and dug her fingers into his hair to pull him closer until the warmth of his mouth had overtaken hers and the world melted away.

She could have stayed locked in the kiss for an eternity, but he pulled away suddenly, backing up several steps. “I’m sorry. We can’t do this.”

“Jaytis.” She appealed, using his given name.

“If they had any idea how I feel about you, they’d reassign me immediately and we couldn’t be together the way we are now.”

It was true, they’d remove him from her detail. He’d been her companion nine hours a day almost every day for years, she couldn’t bear the thought of losing that.

She couldn’t trust herself to speak, so she turned back to the view of the gardens and government buildings that no longer held any attraction to her. She needed to be alone. She turned back to him, “I need to go home.”

* * *

Feelee entered her apartment behind Jaytis with a heaviness that told her tonight would be a restless night.

She pulled a couple of pins out of her hair and shook the unraveling twist until her hair fell around her shoulders. She knew she should do the relaxing exercises Dr. Galia had taught her to help center herself, but she couldn’t bring herself to start. All she could think about was kissing him again.

To hell with it.

Stepping up close to him, she pressed her body against his and wrapped her hands around his jaw to kiss him deeply. He didn’t pull back this time, instead raising his hands to her hips.

When their lips finally parted for a breath, she said, “We don’t have to tell anybody.”

Instead of voicing his agreement, he leaned down to kiss her again but before his lips reached hers the door chime sounded. Both of them turned to check the chronometer: 23:00. The shift was over, time for Lieutenant Joza to replace him.

Feelee looked up at him with a disappointed bend to her lips.

“I’ll see you tomorrow.” He said and turned to let Joza in.

* * *

As exhausting as the day had been, Sorr could have stayed up with Feelee all night. Just to be with her. But if they wanted to keep this thing between them secret, he had to go home as always when Joza came to relieve him.

As soon as he’d left Feelee’s apartment, though, he barely managed to drag himself home and into bed, quickly falling asleep. So quickly, that he hadn’t even realized that he’d fallen asleep before a demanding alarm woke him.

It took him a few seconds to realize that it was still very early in the morning and it wasn’t his wake-up alarm. He reached over and eventually found the control to activate the comm.

 _“Lieutenant Sorr, report to the command center immediately.”_ The voice broke through instantly.

He bolted upright in his bed. “What’s going on?”

_“You’ll be briefed when you arrive.”_

“On my way.” He said, already reaching for his uniform.


	15. So, this is a trap.

Feelee woke and for a terrifying moment thought she was back in her cell on Cardassia. Her heartrate surged before the sounds around her told her she was on a ship. With her eyes still closed and her head bowed, she appraised her situation.

Her wrists were restrained with something hard and metal, pulling her shoulders tight. Her ankle, also, was bound with some kind of cuff to the chair she was in. It was cold, she was still wearing the clothes she’d had on when she went to bed. With her bare feet she could feel imperfections in the cold metal floor. She pushed backward but the chair didn’t move, it was bolted to the floor.

She’d gone to bed while Joza kept watch at her door and woke up here, on a ship and by the hazy sluggishness in her head, she guessed she’d been drugged. She didn’t think she’d been injured.

Where was Joza?

There was another sound in the room. Besides the thrumb of warp engines, the energized buzz of power systems and distant metallic vibrations in the deck from doors opening and closing somewhere in the ship, there was another sound, much closer. Soft breathing. Too controlled to be someone unconscious, but not someone standing guard, either.

She slowly opened her eyes to take in the room. A cargo bay. A figure in a brown militia uniform sat slumped in another chair across from her. Joza lifted her head to face her, still blinking away unconsciousness, too.

“What happened?” Feelee asked her.

“The last thing I remember was an alert of a transporter signal of someone beaming into your apartment.”

Cutting off their evaluation of their circumstances, the doors unlatched with a heavy metallic sound and slid open to allow three individuals from a race she’d never seen to enter. They had smooth skin like a Bajoran, but no nasal ridges. Instead a vertical ribbed furrow running down their forehead that started inside their hairline.

Feelee braced herself for whatever was going to happen. Cardassians weren’t the only ones who could be expected to mistreat prisoners, but instead of an assault, one of them marched up to her with a holo-imager pointed at her face.

The light on the front indicated it was already recording and the man holding it spoke to it, not her. “We are the Kes. We are holding Feena Leeny captive. Our demands are simple, no planet is to be admitted into the Federation until Kesprytt’s application for membership is approved.”

Feelee glanced at Joza, she didn’t know what he was talking about either.

The man turned the holo-imager toward Joza. “In case you doubt our sincerity…”

One of the others pulled out a phaser and pressed it against the side of Joza’s forehead. In the blink of an eye he pressed the firing key.

An inarticulate sound that was supposed to be “no” pushed itself out of Feelee’s throat and an instant later Joza’s head slumped forward.

Feelee grasped for her emotional control while seething inside. Joza had been a resistance fighter, a hero, a patriot, her friend and protector for over a year. For her to be killed for some political dispute that had nothing to do with Bajor was beyond infuriating.

The holo-imager panned back to her. She worked to keep her expression steady while she felt the muscles in her jaw tighten.

“The Federation is not to sign Bajor’s admittance until Kesprytt’s has been approved.” With that, he shut off the holo-imager and lowered it.

“You can’t possibly believe that Bajor’s admittance to the Federation will halt on behalf of two people.” She said through gritted teeth. “Shakaar will never negotiate with terrorists, not even for me.”

“We assumed as much.” He said, finally addressing her directly. “Which is why we chose you.”

She waited silently for an explanation.

“According to our psychological profile for First Minister Shakaar, it is likely he will head up the mission to rescue you.”

“So, this is a trap.”

“We’ll have a lot more leverage once we have in our custody the leader of the Federation’s beloved planet.”

He was not wrong. None of it. Shakaar wasn’t one to sit back and let others lead a rescue. Nor was the Federation likely to go through with the signing while the First Minister was a hostage. She spat a curse at him using a Cardassian expression that meant to have sex with the voles in his grandparents’ basement.

Either he knew what it meant or the universal translator translated it because he reared back and struck the holo-imager across her cheek.

Pain exploded across her senses. She squeezed her eyes shut to control it and vaguely heard her captors leave the room, taking Joza’s body with them.

* * *

“Who are the Kesprytt?” Shakaar demanded the moment the transmission ended.

By now the officers in the command center had to work around a group of nearly a dozen ministers, Federation representatives and Starfleet admirals. Besides a handful of Starfleet officers assisting with the search.

Sorr craned his neck over to hear the answer.

Standing next to Shakaar, Admiral Ross explained. “The planet is Kesprytt, the people are divided into the Kes and the Prytt. The Kes applied for Federation membership several years ago and were denied on the grounds that they were found to be mistrustful and suspicious to the point of paranoia and the conflict between them and the Prytt made them ineligible for membership.”

 _And now it’s become our problem._ Sorr thought and by the look on Shakaar’s face, he was actively avoiding verbalizing the same though.

“Sir, we’re getting a report that a Kes ship was just outside the system as recently as yesterday.” One of the techs reported to Treza.

“Get any information on that ship you can.” He said.

“The Ival is already on it, sir.” She said, then added. “They’re informing us that they’ve detected a warp trail that matches the Kes ship within Bajoran space.”

That had to be it.

“Tell them to prepare to follow, I’ll beam up momentarily. Lieutenant Sorr, I’d like you to come as well.”

“Yes, sir.” 

Shakaar stepped in. “I’m coming with you.”

“Sir,” Treza said, “I assure you, we will do everything we can to bring her back, but we can’t risk taking you with us.”

“This is not a request. I’m coming with you.”

“We can’t take you out there. If they were to capture you, we’d be handing them an extremely high-value hostage.”

The muscles in Shakaar’s jaw clenched, but he turned to Ancillary Minister Aavash. “If I’m captured, you are to take the ministerial lead as though I’m already dead. Under no circumstances are you to negotiate with the Kes. Move forward with the signing as planned no matter what.”

Aavash shook her head, “Sir, that would be a major blow for the Bajoran people. I respectfully recommend that you remain here.”

“I think you underestimate them, and overestimate my personal importance.” He said and turned to Treza expectantly.

Treza glanced around at the faces in the room, but with no one to overrule the First Minister, he reluctantly tapped his commbadge. “Treza to the Ival, three to beam up.”


	16. Maybe if they couldn’t locate her…

Feelee twisted her wrists to get a feel for the restraints until she could tell bruises were beginning to form under her skin. They did not appear to be as sophisticated as what the Cardassians typically used. With the right improvised tool, she was confident she could pick the lock.

She scanned the area around her. This was a cargo bay after all, if they’d been in a hurry when they cleared it out to use as a holding cell, maybe they missed something. Just a sliver of metal would be enough.

As she searched, she wasn’t entirely sure of her plan just yet. Assuming she could remove the restraints and get out of the room, what then? Just escaping wasn’t enough. Shakaar would still come for her, possibly falling right into their trap. Maybe not, but she couldn’t let him take that risk. Had to prevent it, even.

Maybe if they couldn’t locate her…

Finally, her eyes landed on a paper-thin piece of metal a couple of centimeters wide. That might just do the trick. With the chair and her ankle acting as a fulcrum, she twisted out of the chair toward the piece of metal. She scooted on her free foot until she was stretched out as far as possible. It was still some ways away, so she stretched her arms back behind her as far as she could. Her shoulders strained at the movement, bringing to mind a specific torture method.

It remained just out of reach, so she gave one final push backward. Muscles in her shoulders stretched past their limit, tearing, but her fingertips landed on the cold metal and she snatched it up into her hand.

Moving back to a more comfortable position, she began fingering along the latching mechanism. The obvious way for Shakaar to find her was to track their warp trail. But would they already be masking it? No, she decided, they wanted him to find them. She found an entry point where she could slip the metal inside the restraints where the band could be cinched tight against her wrists.

If she could get to a part of the ship where she had access to the engineering systems, she could create a randomized EM field that would mask their warp trail. The piece of metal slid into the restraint casing with some effort.

But how else might the militia or Starfleet track the ship? Was it possible for them to identify and track the signal from the subspace transceiver? She searched her memory. A decade ago, even before she’d officially joined the cell, she’d been trained with the expectation to be a life-long resistance fighter. Someday replacing Shakaar, even. Well… Rys would have replaced Shakaar and Feelee eventually would have replaced her.

The first side of the restraints popped open. She brought her aching arms around to the front and began working on the other side. The subspace transceiver could be taken offline in the short term by pulling a few opti-cables in a location that wasn’t likely to be noticed right away. Then there was also their warp signature. The second cuff released more easily now that she could actually see what she was doing and she bent forward to repeat the procedure one more time to free her ankle.

What was it that could alter the warp signature? She thought back, it had been so long since Mobara’s lessons. To alter the warp signature, one would… remodulate the plasma injectors. After that, she could consider some sort of escape plan. Stealing a shuttle, maybe.

The restraint released and she was finally free. She stood straight for the first time in hours. Her muscles were stiff from the sedative, but she moved anyway. She’d spotted a maintenance access on one wall and walked over to it only to find that it had been bolted shut. She looked up for a ventilation grate. Those were also bolted shut. Even the light fixtures had bars welded over them.

She eyed the door, she didn’t relish the thought of walking through the corridors in the open. So she turned back to the vents. The grates would be the weakest point in the room since they had to be louvered to allow airflow. Just over a meter away from a vent was one of the lights covered by a metal bar. That could work.

She stood below the vent, checking for handholds. There were only a few places where her fingers and toes might find purchase, but it would have to be enough. With her fingertips and toes, she gripped narrow ledges and clasps where cargo could be secured, pulling herself up toward the vent. When she reached it, she threaded her fingers through the openings and craned her neck to see the light fixture behind her.

With one hand still grasping the vent cover and her toes spread out to grip the wall, she reached out with her other hand to take hold of the bar that was protecting the light fixture. Once she had a firm hold, she let go of the vent and held the bar with both hands for a moment to catch her breath. The position was awkward, her feet pressed against the wall and the rest of her body cantilevered out and hanging from the ceiling.

After tapping the lighting fixture with her fingernails to verify that it was glass and not transparent aluminum, she tried hitting it with the heel of her hand. She tried two more times without it breaking or dislodging. Her other arm was starting to feel the strain from supporting her body weight, but she willed her fingers to hold.

Changing tactics, she rotated her body to swing her elbow up and slammed into the glass. With one hit, it shattered, dropping shards of glass to the floor below. The pain hit a split second later, shooting up her arm and down to her wrist. It was so overwhelming that she lost her grip and fell to the floor on top of the broken glass. She managed to roll away, clutching her elbow against her body fighting against the need to cry out.

She managed to get up onto her knees, still holding her elbow and looked up to see that she had made a hand-sized hole in the glass light fixture. After a few more minutes working to control the pain, she stood up and let go of her elbow. Her hand came away bloody and she wiped it on her pants. If this failed, at least she could probably use a piece of glass as a weapon. With that in mind, she selected a finger-sized piece of glass and slid it into her pocket.

Once again, she scaled the wall and took hold of the bar. She reached inside the hole she’d made, trying to avoid the razor-sharp shards of glass still embedded around the edges of the fixture. With her fingertips, she found the light source and detached it from its power aperture. Carefully retracting her hand back through the glass, she tossed it away to shatter in the corner and reached back inside.

The protective casing came away easily enough, but it detached with enough force that the back of her hand scraped across the glass fragments, slicing the back of her hand with bloody stripes. Her arm that was holding her weight began to shake and she knew she wouldn’t last much longer before she lost her grip. She quickly reached back inside to find a flexible power conduit and pulled it down and out, earning more scrapes on her fingers and wrist in the process. One final yank and one end of the conduit released from its port.

Careful not to touch the free end of the conduit to herself or anything metal, she contorted her way back to the vent. The conduit was just long enough to reach the grate and she touched it to the meal, causing it to arc and melt the narrow slats one at a time. Down one side, then down the other side and finally across the top and she was able to bend it open enough to fit through.

With one last effort for her overworked muscles, she pulled herself up high enough to get her chest and elbows in, then she gripped the inside of the duct with her bloodied fingers to lift the rest of her body inside.

For a moment, all she could do was lay there breathing hard and unsuccessfully willing her muscles to get moving. Finally, she pushed herself with shaking arms up off of the floor of the duct that was covered in a thick layer of dust and started moving forward, not even sure where to go yet.

* * *

After an agonizing number of dead-ends, back tracking and crawling in circles, she located engineering. She sat cross-legged for a moment to watch the room below. Between the blood from the broken glass and the dirt in the duct, her hands were completely black, as were her knees and feet.

She watched the movement patterns of the engineers as they went about their business maintaining the ship. The room was arranged like any average warp capable ship with the warp core more or less central and the workstations arrayed around the perimeter of the room as well as some maintenance access rooms here and there. She watched the rooms to infer which one she could expect to find empty and started towards it.  
The circumvented the room inside the duct, which took longer than she’d have preferred, but when she arrived at her destination, she was pleased to find the maintenance room empty. She threaded her fingers through the vent and wiggled it loose, setting it inside next to her.

There was a console just a meter down from the opening of the duct, so she turned onto her stomach and eased herself down, then to the floor. She quickly stepped over to lock the door before getting her first look at the console.

She tentatively poked at the alien characters on the panel, guessing based on diagrams what each one did and finally found the interface that would give her access to the power systems.  
There were a plethora of ways to mess around with EM fields, the trick was, how to do it with an unfamiliar interface filled with a language she didn’t know the first thing about.

Her confidence from earlier began to evaporate the more she tapped around at it until she hit a control that rolled out a menu full of different languages. She recognized a few. Klingon, Ferengi, Kobliad, though she couldn’t read them. Finally, her eyes came to rest on one that would give her what she needed: Cardassian. That was one she most definitely could read.

She selected it and quickly made sense of the interface. The translation wasn’t perfect, the sub-evasive autoemulator was labeled as under which exhalation contestant, but she got the gist. Within minutes, she had the warp trail masked and drilled down into the plasma system controls, making a few adjustments that would make it more difficult for the ship to be identified as one that had been anywhere near the Bajoran system.

After backing out of the interface and changing it back to the original language, she bent down to a maintenance hatch and crawled inside to see to the subspace transceiver.

* * *

“I don’t know, sir, the warp trail is just gone.” Sorr reported to Treza. There was no debris, no indication of some kind of anomaly, the trail just stopped. If they were masking it, why now? Why hadn’t they been doing it all along?

“Is there any other way to track the ship?” Treza asked.

“I’ve tried pinging their subspace transceiver, but either it’s offline or they’re actively blocking us.” Lieutenant Slater, a Starfleet officer assigned to the Ival, offered.

“Assuming they’ve masked their warp trail, there must be at least some trace of it out there.” Sorr said. “Is there a way to pick up even the faintest hint of it?”

“Maybe.” Slater said thoughtfully, turning away from her console for a moment. She stared into the empty space in front of her for a few minutes, her eyes ticking back and forth as though she was working her way through invisible computer circuitry. Finally, she smiled, “I think I have an idea. I’ll need to do it from deflector control.”

“Do it.” Treza ordered.

With that, Slater hurried from the bridge. Sorr only hoped the Prophets were smiling on whatever her plan was.


	17. She bided her time

Feelee wedged herself into a tiny space between equipment in the shuttle bay. She wasn’t entirely sure what the equipment’s function was, but the open power junctures made the fine hairs on her face stand on end. She worried if she got too close, they would spark.

There were three shuttle techs milling around doing the maintenance tasks of one person. She watched them through the gaps in the equipment holding a hyperspanner lightly in her hand.

She bided her time, hoping Shakaar and whoever was with him hadn’t found a way around her modifications.

Her attention perked up, two of the techs stalked out the door, leaving one to finish the job. Feelee slipped silently out of her hiding place using two of the three other shuttles as cover. She shifted the spanner in her hand as she crept up behind him, her bare feet not making a single sound on the metal deck.

When she was within striking distance, she reached up and hooked the spanner under his jaw, grabbed the other side with her free hand and pulled back with all of her strength.

He flailed and grasped for her, making a strangled attempt to call for help, but she had his air passage completely cut off. She hauled him backward away from view of the door, in case someone came back in.

She maintained the pressure as his fight grew weaker, dropping to his knees, then finally going limp entirely and she lowered him to the floor. Then she took a moment to pull off his boots and jacket and made her way inside one of the shuttles just as an alarm klaxon went off. They’d finally realized she was missing.

Inside the shuttle, she stopped for just a moment to find a phaser and tricorder tucked away in a locker. As soon as she’d taken her seat, she called up the translation options again and set the console to Cardassian, then began the startup sequence while slipping her feet into the boots without tying them. She skipped all of the automatic flight checks and quickly lifted off. The boots were huge on her feet, she’d have to cinch them up tight as soon as she had the chance.

With a few taps to the console, the shuttle swung around as the bay doors were opening to the sides.

Just past the halfway point, the doors began to close again. Without taking the time to calculate whether the width of the opening was enough for the shuttle, she punched the thrusters to maximum. Inertia pressed her into the seat as the shuttle lurched forward and through the force field. One of the nacels bashed against the door and knocked the shuttle diagonal, but she quickly corrected.

She sped away from the mother ship at full impulse while calling up a starchart to see where she was. The nearest system was listed as Salva, right on the edge of what used to be the DMZ.  
She set a course for Federation space and accelerated to the shuttle’s maximum warp of 6.2 with the other ship right on her tail. In a Bajoran or Cardassian craft, she might have been able to coax more speed out of the engine, but there was no way with such unfamiliar systems.

An indicator on a side panel told her that the other ship had entered weapons range. She quickly sacrificed some of her speed by transferring power to the shields just as sensors detected a pair of photon torpedoes speeding her way.

She grabbed the edge of the console and waited for impact. When it came, two in rapid succession, she managed to stay seated, but just barely. By the time she was able to check sensors again, two more torpedoes were already on the way.

The first one took out what was left of her shields, the second one slammed into the unprotected hull. Power relays burst with showers of sparks and warning alerts lit up across the console.  
With a sudden deceleration, the shuttle dropped out of warp. Hull fractures began expanding from the aft hull and systems were failing one after another.

Feelee’s fingers danced across the console, searching for an M-class planet while the pursuing ship came back around from where they had overshot. The second planet in the system was formerly the site of a colony that had been destroyed by the Dominion. She managed to coax the ship into that direction.

With the other ship looming in her rear sensor display, the shuttle dove down into the atmosphere above the ruined colony. Without thrusters, it went into an uncontrolled freefall, streaking through the cloud layer. A quick check told her that the transporter was still operational. Selecting an acceptable location, she programmed an emergency transport, stood and initiated.

The smoke, the sound of strained engines and staccato bursts of light from failing systems faded away into the transporter effect to be replaced a few seconds later by the rubble of the decimated Federation colony.

A deafening roar filled the air and she looked up to see a ball of fire that was once her shuttle cut through the sky and crash somewhere beyond the horizon.

The first thing she did was kneel down in the gravel to tighten up her stolen boots.

* * *

The moment Slaters modification to the deflector went online, the Kes ship’s warp trail lit up like the wake of a bioluminescent yelba whale.

Treza paced the bridge a few times, clearly on edge. The First Minister, by contrast, calmly watched the warp trail on Sorr’s display. He had a reputation for methodical, analytical responses. Even before the Withdrawal, his name was known for wise and patient leadership. 

Sorr had been pleased to be assigned a post in such close proximity to the Legend of Dakur. He hadn’t, however, expected to fall in love. There was just something about Feelee…

They had followed the trail through the old demilitarized zone when it suddenly veered off in a different direction. Sorr took a breath to say something, but the helmsman, Lieutenant Kellu, had already reacted.

“Dropping out of warp.” Kellu said.

“Is there anything in this system?” Treza asked.

“Not much anymore, sir.” Slater said. “There used to be a Federation colony on the third planet that was turned over to the Cardassians when the DMZ was set up, but it was wiped out by the Dominion at the end of the war. It’s currently uninhabited.”

“Entering the system.” Kellu said.

“I’m not picking up any ships, but at this distance, they could be hiding.” Sorr added.

“Maintain continuous scans.” Treza told Slater, then to Sorr he asked, “Can you tell if the warp trail ends here or continues?”

Sorr double checked the readings, “It appears to end within the system. I’d say they’re likely still here. And by the decay rate, within the last hour or so.”

“It looks like the third planet is the only one with an m-class atmosphere.” Shakaar offered. It was also in the vicinity of where the warp trail ended.

“Take us closer to the third planet.” Treza said.

“Sir. I’m picking up a ship.” Slater called out. “It’s a Kes design, but the plasma signature doesn’t match.” Meaning they either changed it to make themselves harder to identify or there’s more than one ship here.

“Can you get a read on their hull markings?” Shakaar asked her.

“Working.” She said as the ship came into view on the screen. “It appears to be the ship that had been spotted near the B'hava'el system yesterday, the Dolon. There’s a good chance it’s them.”

“Notify the nearest Starfleet ships. We may need backup.”

“Hail them.” Treza ordered.

While Slater carried out the order, Sorr scanned the ship for Bajoran biosigns. Shakaar blew out a quiet breath when the readings came up negative.

“They’re responding.” Slater said.

“On screen.”

The face that came on the screen verified that this was the ship they were looking for. The man was the same one from the ransom video. The same man who’d already killed Joza and possibly now Feelee.

“I’m Major Treza of the Bajoran Militia.” He began. “Hold your position and prepare to be boarded.”

“I don’t think so. Not until our demands are met.” The Kes captain said with the same coldness he’d shown when he killed Joza.

“You’re still a long way from Kesprytt. You’re no longer in a position to make demands.”

“Perhaps you should speak with your First minister about that. You know we will not hesitate to harm our hostage.”

“The Bajoran Government does not negotiate…”

While they two faced off verbally, Shakaar said quietly to Sorr, “Are we close enough to scan the planet for biosigns?”

“No. All I can give you is a rough visual.” Without being ordered to, he brought up a series of visual images of the planet’s surface and began scrolling through them. The images were by far not detailed enough to spot individuals, but it was worth a try.

The images of a ruined colony flipped by quickly.

Suddenly one of the images revealed a black scorch mark that cut across the ruins of a colony. “Stop.” Shakaar said. “That’s more recent than the rest of the ruins.”

Sorr located the remains of a small ship at the end of the crash. “It’s the same design as the ship out there.” He let that hang in the air for a moment. “Think she beamed off before impact?”

“I hope so.”

In the midst of the conversation at the center of the bridge, Treza took a few steps to the side, causing the comm’s visual sensors to track his movement which brought Shakaar into frame. The Kes captain’s eyes found him immediately and a satisfied smile spread across his face.

“First Minister! How kind of you to join us.” He said and nodded to someone off-screen. He turned back with a sly smile before closing the connection.

“They’re charging weapons.” Slater reported.

“Shields up, red alert.” Treza ordered. “What are their weapon capabilities?”

“Comparable to ours.” Sorr said, already scanning the other ship for weaknesses.

Silent expectation hung around the bridge crew while they waited, but the Kes ship made no move.

“Sir, two ships with matching configurations just entered the system.” Slater said.

“How far away are those Starfleet ships?”

“The Callisto is five hours, twenty-seven minutes away and Ganymede is over eight hours out.” Slater said grimly. Maybe they could hold out for a five-hour stalemate against one, but up against three, they’d be lucky to last a matter of minutes.

“Evasive maneuvers. Don’t let them trap us in a crossfire.” Treza ordered and Kellu moved to obey. “Target the Dolon. Fire at your digression.” He told Sorr.

Sorr worked the controls in front of him to carry out the order. The evasive pattern Kellu had chosen appeared on his console to help him predict the ship’s course and target the phasers accurately. He held off using the torpedoes for now because they had a limited supply.

With a target lock on the Dolon acquired, he initiated the firing sequence. Sensors registered two hits then the Dolon went into their own evasive maneuvers and dodged the last two shots.  
“Minimal damage, their shields are holding.” Slater reported.

“Targeting with photon torpedoes.” Sorr said, already initiating the sequence. He watched the three dots on his display hit home.

“That made a difference.” Slater said, “But not much, their shields are only down to eighty-three percent.”

Quick math told him that they wouldn’t have enough torpedoes at this rate.

“They’re returning fire.” Slater warned.

The Dolon fired back only with phasers, causing minimal damage. They were stalling.

“What’s the ETA on the other two ships?” Treza asked.

“Three minutes. They’re coming in with weapons hot.” Slater said.

“Do as much as you can to this one in three minutes.” Treza told him.

Sorr loaded two more sets of three torpedoes and fired again. Three shots, a pause, then three more. The Dolon jerked suddenly to the side and only two shots landed. Damn.

“Can you give me more power to the phasers?” He asked Slater.

“Working on it… Try it now.”

He drilled into their shields with all of the power the phasers could produce. Their shields fluctuated, but stayed up.

By then, the other ships had arrived.

“One of those ships has a malfunction in their EPS displacement regulators.” Slater said. “They probably sacrificed some of their secondary systems for speed. Target phasers on the ship at our nine-o-clock on their ventral shields.”

“Acknowledged.” Sorr said. He fired a steady phaser blast at the ventral shields, alternating between their port and starboard phaser emitters to prevent an overload. The ship returned fire, but he kept on until sensors detected an overload in their EPS systems and they pulled away, out of the fight for a few minutes at least.

The Dolon and the third ship positioned themselves around the Ival and opened fire together. The ship shook around them. Power relays burst. Smoke poured into the bridge.

Kellu veered them away from the onslaught, causing Sorr’s last two shots to go wide. He took the ship near the sixth planet’s dense grouping of moons, diving and swerving around then. Sorr didn’t know the man, but the way he flew, it was clear he had flown raiders against the Cardassians back then. Sorr had to force himself not to flinch as they nearly skimmed one of the moons.

When they were out of the enemy ships’ view they pulled away from the moons and doubled back to face them again. As they returned, there was only one ship to meet them, the Dolon.  
“Where the hell’s the other one?” Treza demanded.

“Searching.” Slater said.

Leaving her to her work, Sorr targeted the Dolon and fired at them with torpedoes and phasers.

“Sir, the third ship-” The rest of Slater’s warning was drowned out when the third ship appeared from behind one of the moons and hammered them with their weapons.

“Shields down to forty-six percent.” Slater called out over the sounds of destruction.

Sorr struggled to keep up with the two ships swarming around them. Shakaar jumped in next to him, working the torpedoes while Sorr focused on the phasers.

System warnings blinked red down the side of the console. More smoke filled the bridge, this time with a chemical bite to it that stung his nose and eyes.

“Shields are down!” Slater said.

“I’ve lost helm control.”

“We’re down to the last two photon torpedoes.” Shakaar added.

“Make them count.” Treza said.

Whatever happened to those last two, Sorr didn’t see. He was busy trying to keep the phasers going with a console that cut out every few seconds.

“Warp containment field is fluctuating.” Slater said, “Breach is eminent.”

One hard hit with a torpedo and the port phaser emitter was gone. Then targeting sensors went down just before the console blanked out and stayed out.

“Instruct all decks to abandon ship.”

Sorr stepped away from his useless console. “Sir, the escape pods are this way.” He said to Shakaar who was the last to leave the bridge.


	18. What are you doing here?

Feelee pressed her back against what was left of a wall that remained more or less vertical after the orbital bombardment that had evidently leveled the place some time ago. One of the search parties from the Kes ship walked slowly past on the other side. She breathed slowly and silently with her phaser pressed against her chest until they had moved on. She’d used the tricorder to set up a scattering field, but hadn’t been sure how effective it would be with alien technology.

Once she was alone again, she slid down to sit in the debris with her back still resting on the wall. This was the fifth time she’d had to hide from those searchers. They were getting too close too often. She needed a plan.

Unfortunately, whoever had leveled this colony did a thorough job. She hadn’t found a single building left intact and absolutely no functional technology. So far, anyway. But it was getting to be time to give up on that and start working on a way to get out of this on her own.

The faintest sound made her heart surge into her throat. There was someone close by, moving so quietly that she hadn’t heard them until they were far too close. But the sound was too faint to pinpoint a direction. She breathed out slowly with her phaser ready.

Finally, a sound loud enough to pinpoint, one piece of stone hitting another. She whirled toward the source, phaser first and found herself face to face with Shakaar and Sorr.

“What’s wrong with you?! I could have shot you!” She whispered harshly.

“Sorry if we startled you.” Shakaar said as he knelt down next to her.

“What are you doing here?”

“Saving you.” He muttered absently while taking her scratched hand into his.

“No, what you’re doing is handing them exactly what they want.” She scolded. “Their plan was always to capture you.” He ignored her rebuke, only took a sanitizer and bandages out of a med kit he was carrying. “How’d you get here, anyway? Do we have a ship in orbit?”

“Not anymore. We came here on the Ival. We were up against the ship that brought you here, then two more entered the system. We think they had been planning to lead us into an ambush somewhere else but when you took their shuttle, you forced them to do it here instead. They must have called in those other ships from where they’d been lying in wait.”

Feelee guessed the rest. Three against one, the Ival must have been destroyed or severely damaged. The two of them probably came down here in a shuttle or escape pod.

“The end result seems to be the same, no matter where they pulled it off.”

He finished the bandage on her hand. “They don’t have me yet.” He said as he stood and peeked around the edge of their cover.

She watched him for a moment visually scan the area. She had to admit, she was glad to see him. Both of them, she thought, glancing at Sorr.

“We need to find higher ground. Get a better feel for the layout of the ruins.” Shakaar said, looking around for a place to start.

* * *

“Do you have any sort of plan?” Sorr asked Feelee as they picked their way through the rubble with Shakaar.

“My plan ended with the shuttle.” She said sheepishly. “Pretty much have been just winging it ever since.” Shakaar turned back and gave her a stern look, but she only shrugged. “It got me this far.”

“I taught you better than that.” He said as they located the remnants of a building that looked stable enough use as a vantage point. Or, rather, at least more stable than others. The part of the building that had collapsed formed a climbable pile.

“I would have come up with something.” She argued, starting to climb ahead of them. “But I guess now we’ll never know.”

Shakaar followed her up, then Sorr. Feelee reached the third story, which might has well have been the second because the floor below had completely collapsed. She knelt low on one knee at the crumbling edge to avoid being seen from a distance while she visually scanned the area while the two men joined her.

“I can’t see much from here.” She said.

“One higher should do the trick.” Sorr offered.

This time, there was no pile of rubble to climb up, so Shakaar laced his fingers together to give her a boost. He lifted her easily up to the next floor.

She kept low as she pulled herself up and turned herself around on her stomach to look out over the landscape. “I see two search parties. No sign of shuttles. Maybe they beamed down.” She shuffled away from the ledge toward the other side of the building.

He hated letting her out of his sight in a place like this, but since she was the smallest of the three, she was the least likely to destabilize the ruins. And it wasn’t like she was some kind of delicate flower. She’d fought her way out of prison during a shutdown and just today had escaped from that Kes ship. She could take care of herself.

But that wasn’t the point.

Her face appeared over the edge of the floor. “There’s a third search party and a shuttle to the west a couple of kellipates. The sun’s too low in the sky, I can’t see well enough to tell if there’s anybody in it.”

“We have to assume they wouldn’t leave the shuttle unguarded.” Sorr said.

“Agreed.” She said as she swung her legs around to dangle off of the edge. With a quick movement, she jumped down. She stumbled slightly on the uneven floor and he reached out to steady her with his hands around her hips. Her eyes flicked a quick smile his way and he quickly removed his hands.

“If we create a distraction, we might be able to lure them away from the shuttle long enough to get on board.” Sorr suggested. “But the Jem’hadar were pretty thorough when they destroyed this place. I haven’t seen any functional technology anywhere.”

“Anything they missed was probably salvaged when the Cardassians collected the bodies.” Shakaar said, leading them back down to street level.

“I wonder if any of these buildings had basements.” Feelee said.

“If so, there might be pockets that are still accessible.” Shakaar said. “The trick will be spotting them with those patrols still out there.”

* * *

Feelee’s feet slipped around loosely in her boots. And without socks to cushion them, blisters had already started to form under the constant rubbing.

Footwear had always been a tricky thing. It a combat or survival situation, it was as important as the weapon you carried. Lack of shoes on a sharp or hot surface could impede one’s ability to evade the enemy, resulting in capture or death. And if not, a cut on the foot could itself be deadly if it became infected.

Shoes that trapped moisture against the skin had its own set of dangers. As did shoes with holes or gaps that could allow in foreign material. Stiff-souled shoes were problematic when climbing was involved and could result in a fall and broken bones. Shoes that were too tight could cut off blood flow or cause nerve damage.

Right now, her problem was that they were way, way too loose. The blisters were one thing, and easy enough to care for once they were away from this place. But if they had to make a run for it, she’d have a hard time keeping herself from tripping on all of this debris.

To emphasize her thought, the tip of her boot caught on a piece of debris as she tried to step over it. She managed to bring her other foot forward to catch herself, but still came down hard on her knee with sharp pieces of gravel biting into her skin.

“You okay?” Sorr said, suddenly next to her.

“Yeah, I just tripped over these boots.” She said, starting to push herself up, but stopped when something caught her eye.

There, in the remains of a building, there was a wall that had fallen over mostly intact with a swing-style door, bent and mangled, but part way open. Below the opening was too dark to be a solid pile of debris.

“Flashlight?” She asked them and Sorr handed her one.

She lowered down onto her stomach to peer into the opening. Rubble from another building covered the door, so she couldn’t open it further on her own, but when she shined the light inside, she could see a room, dark but untouched by the destruction outside.

“It’s too small for either of us.” Sorr said, crouching down next to her.

“I’ll fit.” Feelee said, already stripping off her jacket. “Once I’m down there, I’ll look for something to wedge it farther open for one of you.”

Together the two men lifted the door and held it open for her. She threaded her legs through first, then laid down on her back to squeeze through. She scooted and wiggled into the opening. The pile started to shake as their muscles strained under the weight. Once her shoulders were through, she turned her head to the side and dropped down.

Her feet hit the floor with a splash and she looked down to find that the place was flooded ankle-deep with water. It must have run down here when it rained and had nowhere to drain off, she thought as water seeped in through the stitching in her boots.

She clicked the flashlight on and passed it around the room, locating a length of pipe that looked sturdy enough to hold the opening for one of them to get through. It came away from the rest of the debris with only a little effort and she dragged it over to where she could brace one end against a stable wall and prepared to move the other into position.

“Lift.” She called to them. The door raised up and she moved the pipe part way in. “One more time.”

They rested the door back down onto the pipe for a moment then heaved it up once again. She slid it into place just as their collective strength gave out.

She heard Shakaar tell Sorr to stay above as a lookout, then his legs appeared, working his way down just as she had, standing for a moment to take in the feeling of wet feet.

She shrugged to him and they began sloshing through the place, looking for anything they could use.

“So, what’s going on.” He asked suddenly.

“What do you mean?”

“You know what I mean. Between you and Lieutenant Sorr.”

Her mind raced for an explanation that would be close enough to the truth not to be a lie but she couldn’t find one and she couldn’t lie to him. “Why would you think-”

He stopped and looked at her with his flashlight pointed just below her chin.

“We kissed.” She finally gave in. “Last night. After the reception.”

He sighed and turned back to continue their search.

“Please don’t have him reassigned. At least not yet.”

“Are you in love with him?”

She hesitated again, was she? “I don’t know. Maybe. We need time to figure it out.”

“Alright, I won’t say anything about it. But you can’t be together as long as he’s assigned to protect you, not really. When he’s on duty, he needs to stay focused.”

“I know. And as soon as we know where this is going, we’ll come clean. I promise.”

“I suppose Sorr is an acceptable choice. Better than Sirn Cula.” He muttered almost to himself.

Sirn… he was a lifetime ago. Nearly a year before she went to Cardassia, in fact. She’d flirted with him and he with her until Shakaar put a stop to it.

“Hey, Sirn was _interesting_.” She said, her voice rising defensively.

“He was Kohn-ma.” He said sharply.

“So? What, they were good enough to work with but not to be involved with?”

“Yes.” He finally stopped and turned to face her again. “They were reckless, irresponsible, they were never going to stop at just driving Cardassians off of our world, they were out for nothing but revenge. We worked with them because we had to, and I didn’t want you or any of my people getting too close to them.”

She couldn’t argue with that. The beam of her flashlight landed on something in the corner. “There’s an intact console over there.” She said, grateful for something else to talk about. She hated arguing with him, but never could manage not to. It was his own fault, the rebellious spirit they’d cultivated all those years ago didn’t go away so easily.

He hurried over to the console and knelt down in the water to inspect it. It was Federation, but looked like it had been modified with some Cardassian technology. With a jerk, he pulled the access panel off and started pulling pieces out and setting them on top.

“See if you can find something with an independent power source. I’d rather not have to use the power cells in our phasers.”

She started checking through shelves and cabinets. “What do you have in mind?”

“These circuit boards are insulated with traces of caberdine.” He said from inside the base of the console. “Do you remember what the signal converters in these Cardassian auxiliary components are made of?”

“Infernite!” She said, catching on. He was planning to make a bomb to use as their distraction to draw the enemy away from the shuttle. Which would explain why he wanted the power source. She turned back to the cabinets and redoubled her efforts.

* * *

Once the sun was down, night fell fast. It the darkness, Sorr could see lights from one of the search parties a short distance away. He watched them for a few minutes, long enough to determine that they were headed in his general direction.

He looked around quickly for something he could easily lift without making any noise and cover the door they had propped open. If Feelee and Shakaar came back near the entrance with those flashlights, they could light them up like actors on a stage.

Crumpled up to one side, he found a piece of cloth, probably from an awning of some sort. He opened it up and laid it over the door and searched for a place to hide himself.

By the time he’d hunkered down between two sections of wall that had fallen against each other and pulled another piece of something in front, he could already hear the debris crunch under their boots. He held his phaser ready and prepared to leap out of hiding to protect his charges. His legs soon began to ache in that position, but he didn’t dare shift his position as the searchers passed by, talking quietly amongst themselves.

Through a sliver of an opening, he watched them systematically pass a scanner back and forth over the area. _You’re not going to find anything._ He thought. Finally, they were out of ear shot and he carefully extricated himself from his hiding place to return to wait for Feelee and Shakaar to emerge.

Through all of this he’d never been too worried about finding her alive. He was concerned for her safety, of course, but she was a survivor. He knew she’d make it. Over the years he’d been assigned to her, she’d told him abut all of the narrow escapes and near missed she’d survived during her childhood. The Cardassians coming after her again and again, leaving a trail of destruction everywhere she went. Then, finally, convincing Shakaar that she was ready to become an active member of the Resistance. If she could survive that, she could survive this.

At that, he saw dim light slice through the opening, followed by Feelee’s bandaged and dirty hands. Later, he’d have to ask what happened.

She pulled herself up to where her chest was above ground level. He reached down to give her a hand. She grasped his forearm and pulled, hard, to lift herself up and out, then reached back in, producing that looked like a palm-sized wad of garbage, but he knew it was much more than that.

Without a word, she handed it to him. He’d build his share of bombs in his youth and, for this one, ‘crude’ would have been a nice term. They hadn’t even bothered with any kind of safety casing. He turned it over carefully.

“Don’t look so worried.” She told him as Shakaar extracted himself from the opening. “If it goes off, you won’t have time to think about it.”

“Oh, I feel so much better.”


	19. That was the last she saw.

Feelee was quite certain Shakaar had selected the bomb’s location purely at random, but he declared it as though he’d painstakingly weighed all of the options. She wondered how often he did that as she and Sorr bent down to set it up.

“I’m glad you’re here with me.” She said to him while Shakaar kept watch.

“I am too.” Sorr told her. “But I’d be happier if none of us were here right now.”

She tipped her head in agreement.

“It’s frustrating, though, all those hours you’ve had to have a security detail following you around, and they end up beaming you away right under our noses.”

“It’s not like they just flew in and beamed me out. It had to have taken months of planning to circumvent your security protocols.”

“Still, I wish I had stayed a while longer last night. Maybe I could have-”

“You would have been taken just like Joza and me. And you’d have ended up dead just like her.”

“Maybe not right away. Then at least you wouldn’t have been alone.”

She couldn’t help but let out a short laugh. “I can handle myself.”

He gently grasped her bandaged hand and held it up. “I can see that.”

“That’s barely a scratch.” As a contrast to her flippant words, she squeezed his hand affectionately.

He squeezed back briefly before he let go to make the final minute adjustments to the device. Maybe keeping this thing between them a secret wasn’t the best idea, she thought as she watched his hands work the controls. She longed to hold those hands with their fingers intertwined as they walked together. Her gaze traveled up his arms, covered by his uniform sleeves, she’d seen the chiseled muscles underneath.

In profile, she admired his lips, which she now knew were deliciously soft, the perfectly even ridges on his nose, his dark eyes so focused on his task and his brow furrowed in concentration.

“Can I help you?” He asked, glancing at her out of the corner of his eye.

“Maybe.” She said playfully. “When we’re back home.”

“Alright, we’re live.” He said, standing up and backing away slowly.

“You look like you expect it to go off any moment.” She said with a laugh as she covered it with a twisted and bent panel that had been ripped away from some wall somewhere.

“I do.” He motioned for her to move away. “That is the most haphazard, cobbled together piece of pure danger I’ve ever seen.”

“I’ll be sure to tell Shakaar you said so.”

“Tell me what?” Shakaar asked as they joined him.

“Uh, nice bomb, sir.” Sorr said quickly and handed him the detonator.

Tucking the remote into his shirt pocket, he led them away toward the shuttle again.

Progress was much slower now that it was dark. Now that she had Sorr’s flashlight, she passed it steadily back and forth along their path, always pointed down close to the ground. If not for all of the rubble, they wouldn’t have risked the flashlights at all, but danger of injury was enough to use them anyway. Back home in Dakur, she could have crossed all sorts of terrain in nearly pitch black. Rocky valleys, edges of cliffs, the occasional forested area, but not here.

Shakaar stopped suddenly, listening. With a quick hand motion, he ordered them to take cover.

Feelee ducked silently behind a piece of building where there was a space she could disappear into if she needed to. Soon, she heard what he’d reacted to. One of the search parties.

Shakaar gave her a silent hand signal to put her phaser on stun. She complied.

They talked in hushed tones quieter than the sound of gravel crunching under their boots. As they approached, she slunk deeper into her hiding place.

From there, she could just barely see Sorr’s face in his hiding place. Shakaar, however, would be completely exposed if they got much closer.

When he had caught her eye, he pointed to them and held up three fingers. Three targets, one for each of them. She pressed her phaser against her stomach and nodded to Sorr, then turned back to Shakaar to wait for the tiniest signal.

At the first hint of his movement, she leaned forward and pivoted while raising her phaser to scan for the target nearest her.

At the edge of her vision, she saw a phaser blast lash out from Shakaar’s position just before she found her target. With practiced precision she aimed steadily and fired.

Her shot hit the target square in the chest and he fell to the ground a fraction of a second after Sorr’s shot hit home.

“Let’s get moving.” Shakaar said urgently. Their biosigns may have been masked, but any sensors out there would certainly have picked up the weapons fire.

Without having to verbalize the thought, they automatically spread out to make it more difficult for a direct scan to penetrate their scattering field and detect their biosigns.

Feelee was surprised to find herself actually enjoying this. Her heart pounded. Her muscles ached. She was exhausted. And yet, to be working alongside these two who thought and reacted the way she did. Evading capture, planting bombs, scheming and planning. She didn’t want to go back to this life, not really, but there was something about it.

Soon, they’d covered some distance climbing over rubble and winding through the ruins to draw near to the shuttle. After picking up the phaser fire nearby, chances were the searchers would suspect that they were coming after the shuttle. That would make it harder to draw them away.

As they approached the shuttle, Shakaar motioned for Sorr to take a position there. Feelee continued on until he indicated her location. While he moved on, she found a secure place.

There were a few sections of bent and broken support beams that blocked part of her view from here, but she could see most of the shuttle. They had put down in a wide clearing that looked like it had previously been cleaned up to be used as a landing site.

She was grateful the bodies from the attack on the colony had been removed. The decayed skeletons she’d seen as a child had haunted her dreams for years. And Cardassian skeletons were especially unnerving.

Pushing that thought away, she counted five individuals coming and going from the shuttle. Plus, there could also be one or two inside. Hopefully, they could pull most of them away with their distraction. Even if not, she was fairly certain the three of them could easily take on this small group, but, assuming they had a lot more fight up ahead, she’d prefer not make this part as easy as possible.

A distant flash signaled the initiation of their plan, followed by a blossom of fire, then a deep boom that she felt in her chest. Lastly the crack sound as it echoed off of the mountains on the horizon.

The Kes at the shuttle reacted immediately. Two more appeared from inside the shuttle, others aimed their scanners toward the blast.

_Go ahead. You’re not going to find anything._

She couldn’t make out what they were saying, but one of them chose two others to investigate and disappeared with them into the darkness.

_Four left, not bad._

When she was sure the group of three were out of ear shot, she crept closer. Enough to get a better shot and to charge in when the moment was right. She knelt down on one knee behind a large piece of machined stone as close as she dared approach.

Two of the group of four stood alert at the shuttle hatch and the other two had returned inside. From the way the shuttle was angled, Sorr probably had a decent view to the inside and Shakaar likely could only see one of the two guarding it.

Feelee lifted her phaser and leveled it at the other one, automatically breathing evenly and relaxing her shoulders and neck. One elbow rested gently against the stone to steady her aim. It was vital that they take possession of the shuttle as quickly as possible. They couldn’t risk any of them sending out a distress call or the others returning too soon. If all three were able to perfectly land the first shot, that would speed up the process immensely.

Her thumb hovered over the firing key, waiting for Shakaar to take the first shot. With the first millisecond burst of light out of the corner of her eye, she pressed the key and landed her shot low on her target’s abdomen. His body glowed for a moment with the stun effect, then he dropped down next to his partner. Sorr’s shot had sailed inside the shuttle and the torso of an unconscious Kes woman tumbled out.

The three Bajorans waited for the final Kes without moving in just yet. They didn’t have to wait long, though, they side of a shoulder and a phaser edged out into view. Sorr didn’t take the shot, Feelee guessed the target had some kind of cover in there.

Feelee and Shakaar opened fire, intentionally pelting the ground and side of the shuttle without aiming directly for the target. With seemingly precise coordination, but was in actuality a random guess at what each other was thinking, they ended their assault.

Another few seconds’ wait, then the shuttle occupant leaned out to spot his attackers, just as she’d hoped. Sorr took the opportunity to shoot him in the side and he fell against the shuttle at an awkward angle.

“Move in.” Shakaar called from his position.

Feelee immediately started toward the shuttle, watching in the direction the group of three had gone. She met her companions at the shuttle hatch and Shakaar went in first.

“Grab those two and pull them inside. Then shut off your scramblers.” He told them.

She exchanged a glance with Sorr, but they both obeyed, each one grabbing one of the unconscious men under the armpits to drag them inside. Hers was heavy, but not so heavy that she couldn’t maneuver him in the way she wanted him to go.

Once they had them both inside, they dropped them side-by-side in the aft compartment and she reluctantly hit the key to shut off her scrambler. Even though there was no outward evidence that the field was shut off, a chill ran down her spine at being so exposed. Back in the hills of Dakur, being anywhere but the caves without a scrambler would mean certain death, or worse.

They had just begun to turn toward the front when phaser blasts screamed over their heads and they dove in opposite directions for cover.

“The other three.” Sorr said.

“Right.” She agreed as she slid up the bulkhead at the side of the opening. She leaned out and laid down cover fire for him to reach over and mash the keypad to close the hatch, then he joined her in firing through the narrowing space to hold them off.

“Lifting off.” Shakaar called back from the cockpit.

The scenery shifted slightly through the opening before it sealed itself. Phaser fire pounded the outside of the hull from behind, then from below as they pulled away from the surface.

Sorr hurried forward while Feelee took a moment to pull out her tricorder and quickly scanned their two guests. When she was sure they would be out for a while, she headed forward too, stumbling slightly as the artificial gravity awkwardly kicked in. Sorr sat bent over the tactical station while Shakaar piloted them up and out of the atmosphere.

Over Shakaar’s shoulder, she watched the sensor readout on his panel. One Kes ship hovered in orbit over the search area and two others moved through debris that showed a Bajoran Militia signature.

“What are they doing?” She muttered mostly to herself, but she was sure she already knew.

“Looks like they’re picking up escape pods.” Shakaar said.

Looking for him, no doubt.

“And what’s our plan?” She finally asked when she saw that he was heading straight for the ship in orbit.

“They ought to be picking up our lifesigns by now.” He said, “Three Bajorans and two Kes.”

“… and we’re going to fake our way on board.” She finished.

“Actually, Sorr’s going to fake our way on board. There’s a chance they’d recognize either of our voices.”

“Uh…” Sorr said uncertainly.

Shakaar continued, “After that, fight our way either to the bridge or engineering and see if we can slow them down when Starfleet arrives in about fifteen minutes.”

“That doesn’t give us much time.” She said as she sat down at the third cockpit console to see about disabling the comm system video feed before they were hailed.

“The ship in orbit is hailing us.” Sorr said.

“One moment.” She worked as fast as she could. “Video is disabled.”

“Opening a channel.”

_“Shuttle Nurin, this is the Dolon. Report.”_

“We have the targets in custody, we’re bringing them to you now.” Sorr bluffed with an uncertain look on his face that didn’t make it into his voice.

_“I’m unable to see you on my screen, are you having trouble with your comm system?”_

“That’s correct. There was a firefight on the surface. The shuttle was hit several times, one of them damaged some of our systems. We’ll need a maintenance crew when we dock.”

_“Confirmed, Nurin, we’ll begin recalling the other teams. Dolon out.”_

“Think he sounded suspicious?” Feelee asked the others.

“From what I’ve heard, the Kes are always suspicious.” Shakaar said.

Blue light washed over the cockpit coming from the Dolon that loomed in the viewports. “They’ve locked on a tractor beam and are bringing us in.” Sorr said.

“Then, let’s get ready.” Shakaar said simply as he stood from his seat.

She and Sorr followed him to the rear, pulling out the phasers they’d tucked away, his in his belt, hers in the pocket of the oversized jacket because the waistband of her pajama shorts clung around her hips loosely enough they’d never hold up a phaser.

In the rear compartment, their two guests laid peacefully unconscious on the deck while the three of them took positions around them on either side of the hatch. Sorr’s familiar and pleasant scent pulled at her attention as they pressed tight together in the cramped space. She didn’t think it was cologne, exactly, maybe just the soap he used to wash his hair. But she’d always appreciated it.

A shudder in the decking told them they’d landed in the shuttle bay. Feelee knelt low next to the hatch with Sorr leaning over her head. There was no way to hear what was happening outside. Were they suspicious? Could they tell that the two Kes onboard weren’t conscious? Had the searchers they left on the planet been able to contact them? Did it really matter? The moment that hatch opened, they’d know they weren’t in custody anyway.

With a hydraulic hum, the hatch broke its seal and glided smoothly open. As soon as the ramp touched the deck, she could hear heavy footsteps coming toward them. Lots of them, too. Sounded like they were prepared for a fight.

When the footsteps changed pitch, signaling that they’d reached the ramp, she leaned out as one with Sorr and began firing into the group.

In the time it took for them to respond and return fire, the three former rebels had stunned all but two of them. She pulled back away from phaser blasts that burned the bulkhead and sent sparks flying past her face. She snuck the tip of her phaser around the edge and fired blindly toward the attackers.

When the noise of battle had died down, she peeked around the corner to find unconscious bodies lying awkwardly on and off of the ramp. In the momentary silence, she could practically feel others out there in the shuttle bay.

She stepped slowly onto the ramp, still in a crouch, panning her phaser across the room. Sorr was at the edge of the hatch and Shakaar somewhere behind her.

Phaser fire sliced through the air next to her so close she could feel the charge in the tiny hairs on her cheek. It took a fraction of a second for her to realize it had come from behind. She swung around, phaser first, but Shakaar already had him in his sight, taking him down with one quick shot.

Damage on the bay doors caught her eye as she turned back. This was definitely the ship she’d escaped from. No time to spare for that thought, though. She whipped back around at the sound of another attacker. Two phaser beams, hers and Sorr’s, landed in his chest.

 _That’ll leave a mark._ She thought.

After the lingering echo had dissipated, they bay was finally, truly, silent.

“Go.” Shakaar said and started toward the door.

She snatched up a phaser from one of the unconscious soldiers, stuffing it into her pocket and they had to jog to catch up.

“Which way to the bridge?” He asked her, pausing before the door.

She closed her eyes and tried to piece together the schematic she’d seen during her escape, orienting it based on their current location. The bridge was… “One deck up and… That way.” She pointed to their left.

The other option Shakaar had mentioned was engineering, which was in the opposite direction. The bridge would be more heavily protected, but it was the better bet to take control of the ship. If they tried for the bridge and couldn’t get through, they probably wouldn’t be able to backtrack to engineering. But if they went to engineering first, they could get locked out of control of the ship by the bridge crew.

Shakaar tapped the control to open the door and stepped left into the empty corridor. Sorr followed, checking to the right. Finally, Feelee joined Shakaar and they started down the corridor toward the bridge.

Her heart pounded against her ribcage. Fast, hard beats that rushed through her ears. The enemy would surely be sending more men any moment. Besides that, the bridge was a deck up from where they were. They’d need to find a way to get up there without being trapped in a turbolift or bottlenecked in an access ladder.

In tight formation, they rounded a corner to spot the point man of the second wave. He raised his weapon to fire, but they’d already pulled back and he only managed to scorch the wall.  
While Sorr kept watch behind them, she and Shakaar raised their weapons together and unloaded a continuous barrage of phaser fire ahead of them as they pushed forward.

Her phaser indicated the power cell was getting low and she reached into her jacket to get the other one to continue. They stepped over the stunned forms of the Kes soldiers as they advanced.

The problem of getting up to the bridge level… without getting them all shot or captured… crawled through her mind. There should be a turbolift just up ahead and an access ladder at the end of the corridor. Both led directly onto the bridge. The turbolift was wide enough for their needs, but too easy for them to get rerouted where they didn’t want to be.

Unless… there had to be a mechanical way to lock down the lift in case of a malfunction. Something that couldn’t be overridden by software.

She stooped to pick up another phaser the stunned soldiers had dropped just before they reached the turbolift door. “Here.”

“The turbolift?” Shakaar questioned skeptically. After all, he was the one who had drilled into her that you never, ever get onto a turbolift when being pursued.

“I have an idea.”

He stared at her for what seemed like an eternity in the midst of battle, but was probably less than a second, then nodded.

She hit the call button and raised her weapon to fire down the corridor towards the last few enemies there. The lift doors slid open smoothly and with a quick glance inside, she backed in with the others.

While Shakaar sealed the door, she studied the lift’s overhead area for an access hatch. “There.” She said when she located a rectangle indentation with a latch on one side. “Give me a boost.” She quickly reached down to loosen the ties on her boots.

Sorr bent one knee toward her and she slipped a foot out of the boot to place on his leg just above the knee. With his help, she hoisted herself up to stand on his thigh and grasped the latch above her. It unlatched easily and she shoved upward to push the door open.

Just then, the turbolift began to move down. Sorr wavered a bit at the change in momentum, but kept them balanced. Once he had his footing again, she reached up through the opening to pull herself through. He pushed up under her thigh, using his hand almost like a seat for her.

Once she was up, she perched herself on the edge of the opening and pulled out one of her phasers. She set it to a compression burst, aimed at one of the guide tracks on one side and fired.

The lift lurched to a stop as the safety brackets clamped down. With the sudden stop, she nearly fell back down into the lift, only managing to catch herself on the edges of the opening.

When she was sure the whole thing wasn’t going to fall, she stood up out of the way for the other two to join her.

“Looks like they took us down three levels.” She said over the strained sounds of them climbing up one after the other.

Sorr joined her first, probably at the insistence of Shakaar. Feelee didn’t wait around in the cramped shaft, she quickly located two ladders on either side of the doors and started climbing one of them.

As she climbed, she was glad she’d gotten rid of those boots. They were a lifesaver down on the surface, if not a problematic one. But inside a ship, they were just unnecessarily bulky. Her toes gripped the rungs of the ladder much more easily than the boots would have.

They climbed past deck four, then three, then they were back to where they’d started. Finally climbing up to deck one. She stopped and looped her elbow around the side rail of the ladder even with the door to deck one.

Shakaar came up to the same point on the other ladder. Sorr was on the same ladder as she was. He came up behind her, standing on the same rung, yet, since he was a full head taller, he was able to reach up to prepare to fire over her head.

Shakaar glanced over to see that they were ready. With a confirming nod, he tapped the control to open the door.

Phaser fire lit up the space the moment the doors opened, slicing the air between Feelee and Shakaar. She turned her face away from the energy beams until they had died down.

Together Shakaar and Sorr edged into the doorway to lay down cover fire for her to come in low to the floor. She bent down and stepped around the edge of the door with one foot and shoved off of the ladder with the other.

Staying below the blanket of phaser fire, she slunk to the side and knelt down behind a console where she’d be able to pick off a few of them when they came out to return fire.

When they did, she reached over the top of the console and picked off three of them in rapid succession and ducked back down, narrowly missing a shower of sparks that erupted from the console.

Shakaar and Sorr took that opportunity to move in in different directions and she lost them among the consoles that ringed the perimeter of the bridge.

The enemy fire died down momentarily and she prepared to reach out to return fire when someone grabbed her from behind around her arms and hauled her to her feet. But she was done being used as a hostage.

She hooked her right foot behind his and heaved forward, twisting left and using her leg as a fulcrum while pressing her knee into the back of his to force it to bend. He toppled to the floor and she quickly stunned him then dropped back down.

By now, there was a noticeable decrease in enemy fire. Shakaar and Sorr had been busy. In fact, she could only pinpoint one source remaining. He seemed to have himself well barricaded on the far end of the bridge.

While he exchanged fire with Shakaar and Sorr uselessly across the bridge, Feelee scurried from console to console until she was just around the corner from her target.

She peeked around the corner to get an idea of his position and saw that it was the man who’d recorded the holo-vid. She squeezed the grip on her phaser, aching for revenge on the man who’d ordered Joza’s murder, but waited for the right moment.

When he took his chance to fire back at the others, she looked again to see that he was turned away just enough that she might be able to get close.

Before he had a chance to turn back, she took a few steps to close the distance between them and pressed her phaser against his head.

“A phaser set to stun at point blank range is deadly.” She said calmly.

He dropped his phaser, but stayed down on one knee.

She enjoyed the moment where she towered over him and he knelt in fear for his life.

“Feelee.” Shakaar warned.

They weren’t vigilantes or thugs, this wasn’t the Resistance days anymore. It wouldn’t do for the First Minister and his companions to shoot and kill this many people when stunning them was sufficient. And right now, her itch to press the trigger and kill in cold blood could complicate things between them and the Federation. A lot.

She channeled the feeling into an upward movement with her knee, colliding it with the underside of his jaw. His head flung back hard enough to knock him out and he fell in a heap.

She turned back to see Shakaar’s disapproval, but she wasn’t sorry. The bastard would wake up in a lot more pain than he would have if he’d been stunned.

“Watch the door.” He said as he sat down at the helm.

Together with Sorr, she found a strategic place to cover the door. There were already sounds that told them someone was coming up the turbolift shaft.

“The Callisto just entered the system.” Shakaar informed them. “The other two Kes ships are moving to intercept. I’m taking us in that direction.”

“Better make sure the Callisto knows we’re not a hostile.” She said.

The first Kes soldier appeared in the turbolift doors, which had been jammed open from the firefight earlier. She picked him off easily enough and listened while his body tumbled back down the shaft. Technically she’d only stunned him, but the fall may very well have killed him.

He was only the first, however. More soldiers appeared, firing first before showing their faces. She and Sorr fell into a rhythm, picking them off as they appeared.

“Lieutenant, I’m going to need you at tactical.” Shakaar said over the nose of phaser fire.

Sorr shot her a quick glance and she nodded to him to let him know she could handle this. She took out her second phaser and laid down cover fire with both so he could move away to the tactical console.

“Target the Kes ships and open fire as soon as we’re in range.” Shakaar said. “I’m hailing the Callisto.” Pause, “Callisto, this is First Minister Shakaar on board the Dolon. We have taken control of the bridge for the moment.”

Feelee continued to keep the turboshaft clear, though, it was a lot more tough without Sorr. She stole a glance at the viewscreen where she could see two Kes ships moving to meet a Starfleet ship, presumably the Callisto. Shakaar maneuvered the Dolon up behind the Kes ships and Sorr opened fire.

While the Kes ships scrambled to respond, the Callisto joined the battle with what she was sure was superior fire power.

“The Callisto is responding to our hail.” Sorr said while he worked.

_“First Minister, what is your status?”_

“We’re holding the bridge, but the crew still has control of the rest of the ship.”

“Lower your shields. We’ll extend ours around you and begin transporting over boarding parties.”

 _“Acknowledged.”_ He said and glanced at Sorr to confirm he was already carrying it out.

The sound of the Starfleet transporter was drowned out by the bang of an access door that was kicked into the bridge behind her.

Feelee turned and leaned out to fire at the intruders, but phaser fire had already erupted from the location. Pain blossomed in her side as she fired back and she realized she’d been hit.

Her phasers tumbled from her hands as she fell, clutching her side. Wet, sticky blood soaked into the fabric around the burned place in her shirt and she found herself lying on her back, looking up at the squad of Starfleet officers. They split off in two directions to face the attackers, all but one, who stepped toward her.

Bending down, she heard him say, “Medical emergency. One to beam-”

His mouth continued moving, but the rest of what he said was lost in the ringing in her ears. Through the closing darkness, she saw him pluck the combadge off his chest and affix it to her sleeve.

That was the last she saw.


	20. It’s the end of an era.

Gravel and debris crunched under her feet as she ran through the ruined city. Through the soft-souled souse like the ones she’d worn in the Cardassian prison, she could feel each and every sharp piece that threatened to cut through and into her feet.

The pathway came to an end with a mound of twisted rubble piled in her way. Gasping to catch her breath, she turned to see that her pursuer was closing in. climbing over the pile would cost her time, but there was no way around.

She stepped up onto the debris, grasping sharp, broken pieces of metal and glass with her bare hands as she frantically climbed.

No matter how fast she climbed, she didn’t seem to get any higher.

A strong hand grabbed her shoulder from behind and pulled her down.

She tried to hand onto the debris but the edges only sliced through her skin as she was pulled away and thrown to the ground.

Finally, looking up at him, she could identify her pursuer. She would never know his name, but would not ever forget his face. It was the Cardassian prison guard who had used her and tormented her for four years.

But it couldn’t be. He was dead. She killed him herself.

He grabbed her by the front of her shirt and lifted her up to face him. Up, high enough that her feet left the ground. Then he slammed her back against the wall of rubble.

She cried out as broken pieces pierced into the skin on her back.

She raised her hands to defend herself. Swung a punch, but her arms moved slowly as though she was moving under water. She couldn’t get enough speed to hit him. Her fist made contact with his face with only a gentle nudge.

She tried again, same thing.

He didn’t have the same trouble. He struck her across the face with the back of his hand hard enough to send her head spinning.

The next thing she could comprehend, her shirt was torn from her shoulders and his hands grasped her bare skin.

Feelee’s eyes popped open to a stark, colorless room. Beeping from a panel above her matched her rapid heartrate. Her hand automatically grasped her side where she’d been shot, but she found that it had been completely healed.

She glanced around at the empty sickbay until she found that she wasn’t alone after all. Her gaze fell upon the still figure of Sorr. Slumped in a chair, sound asleep with his head angled in a way that he would definitely have a sore neck when he woke.

She took a moment to watch the steady rise and fall of his chest and appreciate his relaxed features before any doctors or nurses realized she was awake and came in. with a soft sigh, she realized what she’d said to Shakaar wasn’t true, she was sure now that she loved him.

* * *

Sorr stood on the sidelines keeping watch over Feelee while she mingled with the Federation guests at the post-signing reception. He watched her smile and banter and dance. Mostly young Starfleet officers and diplomatic aids, many of whom insisted on teaching her their favorite form of dancing.

She smiled sweetly and responded politely to their flirtations. Sorr smiled to himself. Little did they know the hardened duranium that coursed through her veins. The temper as volatile as deuterium that smoldered behind her smile. The fierce cunning behind those eyes.

He doubted they could appreciate any of it as much as he did.

Every so often she’d cast a sly smile his way and he felt deliriously happy.

When the evening was mostly spent, she slipped away onto the balcony. The same one where they’d shared a kiss just a week ago. Only this time there was already another security officer stationed there, Lieutenant Rhuz.

Security had been more than tripled for Feelee, the First Minister and all areas where the Federation representatives would be entertained.

She walked to the railing and slipped off her shoes with a tired sigh.

Finally, she turned to him, her eyes flicked over to Rhuz for a fraction of a second. “I don’t want to be with you secretly.”

For a moment, his mind only caught on part of the sentence: _don’t want to be with you_ , until he registered the last word.

In his moment of hesitation, she continued. “I want to be able to go to dinner together. Walk arm in arm together. I want to be able to tell people that I love you.”

He tried to formulate a response, but she pushed ahead. “I’ve enjoyed having you at my side every day all these years. Always there to support me. Always ready to talk me down when I get a little crazy. But as much as I’ve loved that, it’s not enough. Shakaar’s right, if we’re really going to be together, this,” she motioned to the space between them, “has to change.”

It took all of his will power not to scoop her up into a kiss, but he hated the idea of getting written up n his last day on the job. “I put in for a transfer this morning. This will be my last shift as part of your detail.”

A smile spread across her lips for a brief moment before it faded. “It’s the end of an era.”

“But the beginning of a new one.”

She snorted a short laugh, “You’re so dramatic.”

“What? You started it.”

“Logic.” She accused, rolling her eyes.

He waited for her to sop snickering at her one joke. “Will you go to dinner with me tomorrow night?” He said formally.

She gazed up at him with those eyes, “I would love to.”


End file.
